
Class J2Bji5xi4. 

Book ^i^ 

GopghtN" 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr. 



FREE OPINIONS 



FREE OPINIONS 

FREELY EXPRESSED 



ON 



CERTAIN PHASES of MODERN 
SOCIAL LIFE W^CONDUCT 

MARIE CORELLI 

Author of "God's Good Man," ** Temporal Power," 
"Barabbas," ** The Master-Christian," etc. 




NEW YORK 

DODD, MEAD & COMPANY 

1905 



UERARY of .^,ONQSESS 


Two Copies rt«ctiived 


APR 18 laos 


COPY s: 






Copyright, 1904, by 
Central News and Press Exchange 

Copyright, 1904, 1905, BY 
Marie Corelli 

Copyright, 1901, by 
DoDD, Mead & Company 



A Toi, 

Sauvage! 

"Si vous voulez combattrc, 
II faut croire d'abord; 

II faut que le batteur 
Affirme la justice; 

II faut, pour le devoir 
Qu'il s'oiFre au sacrifice, 
Et qu*il soit le plus pur, 

S'il n'est pas le plus fort.** 

Engine Manuel, 



CONTENTS 



A Vital Point of Education 


PAGE 

I 


The Responsibility of the Press 


15 


" Pagan London "" 


32 


A Question of Faith 


42 


Unchristian Clerics 


76 


The Social Blight 


89 


The Death of Hospitality 


100 


The Vulgarity of Wealth 


no 


American Women in England 


130 


The American Bounder 


142 


Coward Adam 


159 


Accursed Eve 


169 


" Imaginary " Love 


180 


The Advance of Woman 


188 


The Palm of Beauty 


206 


The Madness of Clothes 


217 


The Decay of Home Life in England 


231 


Society and Sunday 


260 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The " Strong " Book of the Ishbosheth 273 

On the Making of Little Poets 281 

The Prayer of the Small Country M.P. 292 

The Thanksgiving of the Small Country 

M.P.'s Wife 297 

The Vanishing Gift 303 

The Power of the Pen 324 

The Glory of Work 344 

The Happy Life 362 

The Soul of the Nation 377 



AUTHOR'S NOTE 

Some of these social papers which are now col- 
lected together and published in one volume for 
the first time, have appeared before in various 
periodicals enjoying a simultaneous circulation in 
Great Britain and the United States. Eleven of 
them were written for an American syndicate, 
which (for the purpose of copyright in England), 
sold them to a London weekly journal, wherein 
they were duly issued. " Pagan London," how- 
ever, which caused some little public discussion, 
was not included amon^ those supplied to the 
American syndicated press, that article having 
been written specially for English readers, as a 
protest against Archdeacon Sinclair's sweeping 
condemnation of the lax morality and neglect of 
religion among the teeming millions that populate 
our great English metropolis, — a condemnation 
which I ventured, and still venture to think un- 
fair, in the face of the open worldliness, and gross 
inattention to the spiritual needs of their congre- 
gations by a very large majority of the clergy 
themselves. Certain people, whose brains must 
be of that peculiar density which is incapable of 
receiving even the impression of a shadow of 
common sense, have since accused me of attack- 
ing " all " the clergy. Such an accusation is 



AUTHOR'S NOTE 

unwarranted and unwarrantable, for no one ap- 
preciates more than I do the brave, patient, self- 
denying and silent work of the true ministers of 
the Gospel, who, seeking nothing for themselves, 
sacrifice all for their Master. But it is just these 
noble clergy whose high profession is degraded 
by the ever-increasing tribe of the false hypocrites 
of their order, such as those mentioned in " Un- 
christian Clerics,'' all of whom have come within 
the radius of my own personal experience. I 
readily admit that I have little patience with 
humbug of any kind, and that " religious " hum- 
bug does always seem to me more like open 
blasphemy than what is commonly called by that 
name. I equally confess that I have no sympathy 
with any form of faith which needs continuous 
blatant public advertisement in the press of a 
so-called " Christian " country, — nor do I believe 
in a Brass-band " revival " of what, if our religion 
is religion at all, should never need " reviving." 
I have put forward these views plainly in " The 
Soul of the Nation," which appears for the first 
time in the present volume. 

I have only to add that I set no other merit 
by such " opinions " as will be found in the fol- 
lowing pages, save that they are honest, and that 
they are honestly expressed, without fear or 
favour. This is their only claim upon the at- 
tention of the public. 

Marie Corelli. 

Stratford-on-Avon, England, 
March, 1905. 



A VITAL POINT OF EDUCATION 

IN days like these, when the necessity of Educa- 
tion, technical or otherwise. Is strenuously 
insisted upon by all the learned, worshipful, 
governmental and dictatorial personages who 
" sit " on County Councils, or talk the precious 
time recklessly away in Parliament without ap- 
parently arriving at any decision of definite work- 
able good for the nation. It will not perhaps be 
considered obtrusive or Intrusive If a suggestion 
be put forward as to the Importance of one 
point, — 

The Necessity of Teaching People to Read. 

This essential of education Is sadly lacking 
among the general majority of " educated " per- 
sons in Great Britain, and I think I may say 
America. Especially among those of the '' upper " 
classes, in both countries. When we speak of 
these " upper " classes, we mean of course those, 
who by chance or fortune have been born either to 
such rank or to such sufficient wealth as to be 
lifted above the tolhng million, and who may be 
presumed to have had all the physical, mental and 
social advantages that tuition, training and gen- 
eral surroundings can give them. Yet It Is pre- 
cisely among these that we find the very ones who 
cannot read, who frequently cannot spell, and 

1 



2 FREE OPINIONS 

whose handwriting is so bad as to be well-nigh 
Illegible. When It Is stated that they cannot read, 
that statement is not by any means Intended to con- 
vey the Idea that if a book or newspaper be given 
to them they do not understand the letters or the 
print in which the reading matter is presented to 
their eyes. They do. But such letters and such 
print Impress no meaning upon their minds. Any- 
one can prove this by merely asking them what 
they have been reading. In nine cases out of ten 
they " don't know." And if they ever did know, 
during one unusual moment of brain-activity, they 
" forget." The thinking faculty Is, with them, like 
a worn-out sieve, through which everything runs 
easily and drops to waste. The news of the day, 
be it set forth never so boldly in no matter what 
startllngly stout headlines, barely excites their 
Interest for more than a second. They may per- 
haps glance at a couple of newspaper placards and 
lazily observe, " Russia at it again," but of the Ins 
and outs of policy, the difficulties of Government, 
the work of nations, they grasp absolutely nothing. 
Thus it happens that when they are asked their 
opinion on any such events of the hour as may be 
making history in the future, they display their 
utter ignorance In such a frankly stupid fashion 
that any Intelligent enquirer is bound to be stunned 
by their lack of knowledge, and will perhaps mur- 
mur feebly: " Have you not read the news? " to 
which will come the vague reply: "Oh, yes, I 
read all the newspaper I But I really don't re- 



A VITAL POINT OF EDUCATION 3 

member the particulars just now ! " What they 
do remember, — these "cultured" persons, (and 
the more highly they are cultured, the more tena- 
cious appears to be their memory on the point) — 
IS a divorce case. They always read that carefully 
over and over again. They comment upon it 
afterwards with such gusto as to make it quite 
evident to the merest tyro, that they have learned 
all its worst details by heart. If they can only 
revel In the published shame and disgrace of one 
or two of their very " dearest " friends, they enjoy 
and appreciate that kind of mental fare more than 
all the beautiful poems and idyllic romances ever 
written. 

The " million " have long ago learned to read, — 
and are reading. The last is the most important 
fact, and one which those who seek to govern 
them would do well to remember. For their read- 
ing is of a most strange, mixed, and desultory 
order — and who can say what wondrous new no- 
tions and disturbing theories may not leap out 
sprite-like from the witches cauldron of seething 
ideas round which they gather, watching the liter- 
rary " bubble, bubble, toil and trouble,'* wherein 
the " eye of newt and toe of frog " in the book 
line may contrast with something which is alto- 
gether outside the boiling hotch-potch, — namely 
that " sick eagle looking at the sky " which is the 
true symbol of the highest literary art. But the 
highest literary art, particularly in its poetic form, 
IS at a discount nowadays. And why? Simply 



4 FREE OPINIONS 

because even the million do not know " how '* to 
read. Moreover, it is very difficult to make them 
learn. They have neither the skill nor the patience 
to study beautiful thoughts expressed in beautiful 
language. They want to " rush '* something 
through. Whether poem, play, or novel, it must 
be " rushed through " and done with. Very few 
authors' books, if any, can be sure of an honest 
and unprejudiced reading, either by those whose 
business it is to review it for the press, or those 
whose pleasure it is to " skim " it for themselves. 
" They have no time." They have time for 
motoring, cycling, card-playing, racing, betting, 
hockey and golf — anything in short which does 
not directly appeal to the intellectual faculties, — 
but for real reading, they can neither make leisure 
nor acquire aptitude. 

This vague, sieve-like quality of brain and 
general Inability to comprehend or retain impres- 
sions of character or events, which is becoming so 
common among modern so-called " readers " of 
books, can but make things very difficult for 
authors who seek to contribute something of their 
utmost best to the world of literature. Most men 
and women who feel the " divine afflatus," and who 
are able to write in a style above the average, must 
be conscious of a desire to rise yet higher than 
any of their own attempted efforts, and to do 
something new, strong and true enough to hold 
life and lasting in it when other contemporary 
work is forgotten. It is the craving of the *' sick 



A VITAL POINT OF EDUCATION 5 

eagle looking at the sky " perhaps, nevertheless 
it is a noble craving. In taking an aim It Is as 
well to let fly at the moon, even if one only hits 
a tree. But when fiery-footed Pegasus would fain 
gallop away with its rider into the realms of imagi- 
nation and enchantment, — when the aspiring dis- 
ciple of literature, all aglow with freshness and 
fervour, strives to catch some new spirit of thought 
as it rushes past on Its swift wings, or seeks to 
create some fair consoling Idyll of human circum- 
stance, then all the publishers stand massed in the 
way and cry " Halt! " *' Don't let us have any 
great Ideas!" they say — "they are above the 
heads of the public. Be domestic — be matrimo- 
nially Iniquitous, — be anything In the line of fiction 
but * great.' Don't give us new things to think 
about, — the public have no time to think. What 
they want Is just something to glance at between 
tea and dinner." 

Now this condition of affairs, which Is positively 
disastrous to all literary art. Is entirely brought 
about by the lack of the one vital point in the 
modern education of the British and American 
people, — namely, that they have not been taught 
" how " to read. As a result of this, they fre- 
quently pronounce a book " too long " or " too 
dull," — too this, or too that, without having looked 
at more than perhaps twenty pages of Its contents. 
They will skim over any amount of cheap news- 
papers and trashy society " weekhes " full of the 
unimportant movements and doings of he and she 



6 FREE OPINIONS 

and they, but to take up a book with any serious 
intention of reading It thoroughly, Is a task which 
only the thoughtful few will be found ready to 
undertake. What Is called the appreciation of the 
" belles lettres " Is Indeed " caviare to the gen- 
eral." Knowledge brings confidence; and if it 
were made as much the fashion to read as it is 
to ride in motor-cars, some improvement in man- 
ners and conduct might be the happy result of such 
a prevailing taste. But as matters stand at the 
present day, there is a large majority of the 
*' educated " class, who actually do not know the 
beginnings of " how " to read. They have never 
learned — and some of them will never learn. 
They cannot realize the unspeakable delight and 
claim of giving one's self up to one's author sans 
prejudice, sans criticism, sans everything that could 
possibly break or mar the spell, and being carried 
on the wings of gentle romance away from Self, 
away from the everyday cares and petty person- 
alities of social convention, and observance, and 
living " with " the characters which have been 
created by the man or woman whose fertile brain 
and toiling pen have unitedly done their best to 
give this little respite and holiday to those who 
will take it and rejoice in it with gratitude. 

Few there are nowadays who will so permit 
themselves to be carried away. Far larger is the 
class of people who take up a novel or a volume 
of essays, merely to find fault with it and fling it 
aside half unread. Xhe attitude of the bad- 



A VITAL POINT OF EDUCATION 7 

tempered child who does not know what toy next 
to break, is the attitude of many modern readers. 
Nothing is more manifestly unfair to an author 
than to judge a book by the mere '' skimming " 
of its pages, though this injustice becomes almost 
felonious when the merits or demerits of the work 
are decided without reading it at all. For Instance, 
Smith meets Jones In the train which Is taking 
them out to their several " little places '' In the 
country, and says: 

" Have you read So-and-So's latest book? If 
not, don't!" Whereupon Jones murmurs: 
*' Really! So bad as all that! Have you read 
it? " To which Smith rejoins rudely: " No ! And 
don't intend! I've heard all about it!" And 
Jones, acquiescing feebly, decides that he must 
" taboo " that book, also Its author, lest perhaps 
Mrs. Jones' virtue be put to the blush at the men- 
tion of either. Now if Smith dared to condemn 
a tradesman in this way, and depreciated his goods 
to Jones in such wise that the latter should be 
led to avoid him altogether, that tradesman could 
claim damages for injuring his character and 
depriving him of custom. Should not the same 
rule apply to authors when they are condemned 
on mere hearsay ? Or when their work is wilfully 
misrepresented and misquoted in the press? 

It may not, perhaps, be considered out of place 
here to recall a " personal reminiscence " of the 
wilful misrepresentation made to a certain section 
of the public of a novel of mine entitled " Tern- 



8 FREE OPINIONS 

poral Power." That book had scarcely left the 
printer's hands when W. T. Stead, of the Review 
of Reviews, wrote me a most cordial letter, con- 
gratulating me on the work, and averring that it 
was " the best " of all I had done. But in his 
letter he set forth the startling proposition that I 
" must have meant " King Edward, our own gra- 
cious Sovereign, for my " fictional " King, Queen 
Alexandra for the Queen, the Prince of Wales for 
my " Prince Humphry,'* and Mr. Chamberlain 
for the defaulting Secretary of State, who figures 
in the story as " Carl Perousse." I was so amazed 
at this curious free translation of my ideas, that 
at first I thought it was " Julia " who had thus 
persuaded Mr. Stead to see things upside down. 
But as his criticism of the book had not yet ap- 
peared in the Review of Reviews, I wrote to him 
at once, and earnestly assured him of the com- 
plete misapprehension he had made of my whole 
scope and intention. Despite this explanation on 
my part, however, Mr. Stead wrote and published 
a review of the book maintaining his own fabri- 
cated " case '' against me, notwithstanding the fact 
that he held my denial of his assertions in his 
possession before the publication of his criticism ! 
And though a dealer in meat, groceries, and other 
food stuffs may obtain compensation if his wares 
are wilfully misrepresented to the buying public, 
the purveyor of thoughts or ideas has no remedy 
when such thoughts or ideas are deliberately and 
purposefully falsified to the world through the 



A VITAL POINT OF EDUCATION g 

press. Yet the damage is surely as great, — and 
the injury done to one's honest intention quite as 
gratuitous. From this little incident occurring to 
myself, I venture to say in reference to the asser- 
tion that people do not know how to read, that if 
those who *' rushed " through the misleading 
criticism of " Temporal Power " had honestly read 
the book so criticized for themselves, they would 
have seen at once how distorted was Mr. Stead's 
view of the whole story. But, — while many who 
had read the book and not the review, laughed 
at the bare notion of there being any resemblance 
between my fictional hero-king of romance and the 
Sovereign of the British Empire, others, reading 
the review only, foolishly decided that I must have 
written some " travesty " upon English royalty, 
and condemned the book without reading it. This 
is what all authors have a right to complain of, — 
the condemnation or censure of their books by 
persons who have not read them. For though 
there never was so much reading matter put before 
the public, there was never less actual " reading '* 
in the truest and highest sense of the term. 
-^sj^To read, as I take it, means to sit down quietly 
and enjoy a book in its every line and expression. 
Whether it be tragic or humorous, simple or 
ornate. It has been written to beguile us from our 
daily routine of life, and to give us a little change 
of thought or mood. It may please us, or it may 
make us sad — it may even anger us by upsetting 
our pet theories and contradicting us on our own 



10 FREE OPINIONS 

lines of argument, but if it has taken us away for 
a time from ourselves, It has fulfilled the greater 
part of its mission, and done us a good turn. 
Those who have really learned to read, are no 
encouragers of the Free Library craze. The true 
lover of books will never want to peruse volumes 
that are thumbed and soiled by hundreds of other 
hands — he or she will manage to buy them and 
keep them as friends in the private household. 
Any book, save the most expensive " editions de 
luxe," can be purchased for a few shillings, — a 
little saving on drugged beer and betting would 
enable the most ordinary mechanic to stock himself 
with a very decent library of his own. To borrow 
one's mental fare from Free Libraries Is a dirty 
habit to begin with. It is rather like picking up 
eatables dropped by some one else in the road, and 
making one's dinner off another's leavings. One 
book, clean and fresh from the bookseller's 
counter, Is worth half a dozen of the soiled and 
messy knockabout volumes, which many of our 
medical men assure us carry disease-germs In their 
too-wldely fingered pages. Free Libraries are un- 
doubtedly very useful resorts for betting men. 
They can run in, glance at the newspapers for the 
latest " Sporting Items " and run out again. But 
why ratepayers should support such houses of call 
for these gentry remains a mystery which one 
would have to pierce through all the Wool and 
Wobble of Municipal Corporations to solve. An 
American *' professor " — (there are so many of 



A VITAL POINT OF EDUCATION ii 

them) spoke to me the other day In glowing terms 
of Andrew 'Carnegie. " He's cute, you bet! " he 
remarked, " he goes one better than Pears' Soap ! 
Pears has got to pay for the upkeep of his hoard- 
ings, but Carnegie plants his down in the shape 
of libraries and gets the British ratepayer to keep 
them all going! Ain't he spry! " 

Poor British ratepayer! It is to be feared he 
is easily gulled ! But,— to return to the old argu- 
ment — if he knew " how " to read — really knew, 
he would not be so easily taken in, even by the 
schemes of philanthropy. He would buy his books 
himself, and among them he might even manage 
to secure a copy of a very interesting volume pub- 
lished in America, so I am given to understand, 
which tells us how Carnegie made his millions, 
and how he sanctioned the Pinkerton police force 
in firing on his men when they " struck " for 
higher wages. 

Apropos of America and things American, there 
is just now a pretty little story started in the press 
on both sides of the water, about British novels 
and British authors no longer being wanted in the 
United States. The Children of the Eagle are 
going to make their fiction themselves. All power 
to their elbows ! But British authors will do them- 
selves no harm by enquiring carefully into this 
report. It may even pay some of them to send 
over a private agent on their own behalf to study 
the American book stores, and take count of the 
thousands of volumes of British fiction which are 



12 FREE OPINIONS 

selling there *' like hot cakes," to quote a choice 
expression of Transatlantic slang. It Is quite 
evident that the Children of the Eagle purchase 
British fiction. It Is equally evident that the pub- 
lishers who cater for the Children of the Eagle 
are anxious to get British fiction cheap, and are 
doing this little " deal " of the " No demand " 
business out of an acute sense of urgency. It is 
all right, of course ! If I were an American pub- 
lisher and had to pay large prices to popular 
British authors for popular British fiction (now 
that "piracy" is no longer possible), I should 
naturally tell those British authors that they are 
not wanted in America, and that it is very good 
and condescending of me to consider their wares 
at all. I should give a well-known British author 
from £ioo to £500 for the sole American rights 
of his or her newest production, and proceed to 
make £5,000 or £7,000 profit out of it. That kind 
of thing is called " business." I should never 
suspect the British author of being so base as to 
send over and get legal statements as to how his 
or her book was selling, or to take note of the 
thousands of copies stacked up every day in the 
stores, to be melted away as soon as stacked, in 
the hands of eager purchasers. No ! As a strictly 
honourable person I should hope that the British 
author would stay at home and mind his or her 
own business. But let us suppose that the Ameri- 
can publisher's latest delicate " feeler " respecting 
the " No demand for British literature " were 



A VITAL POINT OF EDUCATION 13 

true, it would seem that Americans, even more 
than the British, require to be taught " how " to 
read. If one may judge from their own output of 
literature, the lesson is badly needed. Ralph 
Waldo Emerson remains as yet, their biggest 
literary man. He knew " how " to read, and from 
that knowledge learned " how " to write. But 
no American author has come after him that can 
be called greater than he, or as great. Concern- 
ing the art of fiction, the present American 
*' make " is, whatever the immediate *' catching 
on " of it may be, distinctly ephemera of the 
utmost ephemeral. Such " literature " would not 
exist even in America, if Americans knew " how " 
to read. What is called the " Yellow Journalism " 
would not exist either. Because a really educated 
reader of things worth reading would not read it — 
and it would therefore be a case of the wicked 
ceasing to trouble and the weary being at rest. 

There is a general complaint nowadays — es- 
pecially among authors — of the " decadence " of 
literature. This is true enough. But the cause 
of the " decadence " is the same — simply and 
solely that people cannot and will not read. They 
do not know " how " to do it. If they ever did 
know in the bygone days of Dickens and Thack- 
eray, they have forgotten. Every book is " too 
long " for them. Yet scarcely any novel is pub- 
lished now as long as the novels of Dickens which 
were so eagerly devoured at one time by tens of 
thousands of admiring readers. A short, risky, 



14 FREE OPINIONS 

rather "nasty" book, (reviewers would call it 
strong, but that is only a little joke of theirs, — 
they speak of this kind of literature as though it 
were cheese) finds most favour with the " upper '* 
circles of society in Great Britain and America. 
Not so with the " million " though. The million 
prefer simpler fare — and they read a good deal 
— though scarcely in the right way. It is al- 
ways more a case of " skimming " than read- 
ing. If they are ever taught the right way to 
read, they may become wiser than any politi- 
cal government would like them to be. For 
right reading makes right thinking — and right 
thinking makes right living — and right living 
would result in what? Well! For one thing, 
members of councils and other " ruling '* bodies 
would be lazier than ever, with less to do — and 
the Education Bill would no longer be necessary, 
as the fact of simply knowing " how " to read, 
would educate everybody without further trouble. 
Dear Sir or Madam, — read! Don't " skim " 1 
Learn your letters. Study the pronunciation and 
meaning of words thoroughly first, and then you 
may proceed to sentences. Gradually you will be 
able to master a whole passage of prose or poetry 
in such a manner as to actually understand it. 
That will be a great thing ! And once you under- 
stand it, you may even possibly remember it I And 
then, — no matter how much you may have pre- 
viously been educated, — your education will only 
have just begun I 



THE RESPONSIBILITY OF THE 
PRESS 

NOT very long ago a Royal hint was 
given by one of the wisest and most 
tactful among the great throned Rulers 
of the world, to that other ruling power which 
IS frequently alluded to as " the Fourth Es- 
tate." Edward the Seventh, King by the Grace of 
God over Great Britain and all the dependencies 
which flourish under the sign of the Rose, Sham- 
rock and Thistle, using that courteous and diplo- 
matic manner which particularly belongs to him, 
expressed his " hope " that the Gentlemen of the 
Press would do their best to foster amity and 
goodwill between the British Empire and other 
nations. Now amongst the many kindly, thought- 
ful, sagacious and far-sighted things which His 
Majesty has done since he ascended the English 
Throne, that highest seat of honour in the world 
— perhaps this mild and friendly suggestion to the 
press is one of the most pointed, necessary and 
admirable. It is a suggestion which, if accepted 
in the frank, manly and magnanimous spirit in 
which it has been conveyed, would make for the 
peace of Europe. Petty insult often begets serious 
strife, and the cheap sneer of a would-be " smart " 
journalist at another country's governmental mis- 

15 



i6 FREE OPINIONS 

takes may lead to consequences undreamt of In 
newspaper-office philosophy. Yet the journalist, 
as journalist, Is scarcely to blame If, In a praise- 
worthy desire to give a " selling " Impetus to the 
paper on which he Is employed, he gets up a little 
bit of speculative melodrama, such as *' German 
Malignity," " Russian Trickery," " Mysterious 
Movements of the Fleet," " French Insult to the 
King," " America's Secret Treaty," or " Alarm- 
ing Eastern Rumours." He Is perhaps not In any 
way departing from his own special line of business 
if he counts on the general gullibility of the public, 
though In this matter he Is often liable to be him- 
self gulled. For the public have been so fre- 
quently taken in by mere " sensationalism " In 
war news aitid the like, that they are beginning to 
view all such rumours with more contempt than 
credence. Nevertheless the ambitious little Press 
boys (for they are only boys In their lack of dis- 
cernment, whatever may be their external appear- 
ance as grown men) do not deserve so much 
reproof for their hot-headed, impulsive and 
thoughtless ways as the personages set In authority 
over them, whose business it is to edit their 
*' copy " before passing it on to the printers. 
They are the responsible parties, — and when they 
forget the dignity of their position so much as to 
allow a merely jejune view of the political situation 
to appear In their journals under flamboyant head- 
lines which catch the eye and ensnare the attention 
of- the more or less uninstructed crowd, one natur- 



RESPONSIBILITY OF THE PRESS 17 

ally deplores the lapse of their honourable duty. 
For in this way a great deal of harm may be done 
and endless misunderstanding and mischief created. 
It is quite wrong and wholly unpatriotic that the 
newspapers of any country should strive to foster 
ill-feeling between conflicting nations or political 
parties. When they engage in this kind of petty 
strife one is irresistibly reminded of the bad child 
in the nursery who, seeing his two little brothers 
quarrelling, cries out: " Go it, Tom! Go it, Jackl 
Hit him in the eye! " and then, when the hit is 
given and mutual screams follow, runs to his 
mother with the news — " Ma ! Tom and Jack are 
fighting!" with an entire quashing of the fact 
that he helped to set them at it. And when the 
trouble begins to be serious and national recrimi- 
nations are freely exchanged, it is curious to note 
how quickly the Press on both sides assume the 
attitude of an almost matronly remonstrance. 
One hears in every leading article the " How can 
you behave so, Jack? What a naughty boy you 
are, Tom! Positively, I am ashamed of you 
both!" 

There would be no greater force existing in the 
world as an aid to civilization and human frater- 
nity than the Press, if its vast powers were em- 
ployed to the noblest purposes. It ought to 
resemble a mighty ship, which, with brave, true 
men at the helm, moves ever on a straight course, 
cleaving the waters of darkness and error, and 
making direct for the highest shores of peace and 



i8 FREE OPINIONS 

promise. But it must be a ship indeed, — grandly 
built, nobly manned and steadily steered, — not a 
crazy, water-logged vessel, creaking with the thud 
of every wave, or bobbing backwards and for- 
wards uncertainly in a gale. Its position at the 
present day is, or appears to be, rather the latter 
than the former. Unquestionably the people, 
taken in the mass, do not rely upon it. They 
read the newspapers — but they almost immediately 
forget everything in them except the headlines and 
one or two unpleasant police cases. And why do 
they forget? Simply because first of all they are 
not sufficiently interested, and, secondly, because 
they do not believe the news they read. A work- 
ingman told me the other day that he had been 
saving sixpence a week on two halfpenny papers 
which he had been accustomed to take In for the 
past year. " I found 'em out in ten lies, all on 
top of one another, in two weeks," he candidly 
explained; "and so I thought I might as well 
keep my money for something more useful. So 
I started putting the halfpence by for my little 
kiddie, and I'm going to stick to it. There's five 
shillings in the Savings Bank already! " 

Glancing back to the early journalism of the 
past century, when Dickens and Thackeray wrote 
for the newspapers ("there were giants in those 
days ") , one cannot help being struck by the great 
deterioration in the whole " tone " of the press at 
the present time, as contrasted with that which 
prevailed in the dawn of the Victorian era. There 



RESPONSIBILITY OF THE PRESS 19 

Is dignity, refinement, and power in the leading 
articles of the Times and other journals then In 
vogue, such as must needs have compelled people 
not only to read, but to think. The vulgar " per- 
sonal " note, the flippant sneer at this, that, or 
t'other personage, — the monkey-like mockery of 
women, — the senseless gibes flung at poets and 
poetry, — the clownish kick at sentiment, — were 
all apparently unknown. 

True It Is that the Times still holds Its own as 
a journal where one may look In vain for " sen- 
sationalism," but Its position Is rather like that of 
a grim old lion surrounded by cubs of all sizes 
and ages, that yap and snap at Its whiskers and 
take liberties with Its tail. It can be said, how- 
ever, that all the better, higher-class periodicals 
are In the same situation — the yapping and snap- 
ping goes on around them precisely In the same 
way — " Circulation Five Times as Large as that 
of any Penny Morning Journal," etcetera, etcet- 
era. And the question of the circulation of any 
particular newspaper resolves Itself Into two 
points, — firstly, the amount of money It puts into 
the pockets of Its proprietors or proprietor, and 
secondly,, the Influence It has, or Is likely to have, 
on the manners and morals of the public. The 
last Is by far the most Important matter, though 
the first Is naturally the leading motif of its publi- 
cation. Herein we touch the keynote of responsi- 
bility. How, and In what way are the majority 
of people swayed or affected by the statements and 



20 FREE OPINIONS 

opinions of some one man or several men em- 
ployed on the world's press? On this point it 
may perhaps be asked whether any newspaper is 
really justified in setting before readers of all ages 
and temperaments, a daily fare of suicides, mur- 
ders, divorce-cases, sudden deaths, or abnormal 
*' horrors " of every kind to startle, depress or 
warp the mind away from a sane and healthful 
outlook upon life and the things of life in gen- 
eral? A very brilliant and able journalist tells me 
that '' if we don't put these things in, we are so 
deadly dull ! " One can but smile at this candid 
statement of Inefficiency. The Idea that there can 
be any " lively " reading In the sorrowful details 
of sickness, crime or mania, leaves much room for 
doubt. 

And when It Is remembered how powerfully 
the human mind is affected by suggestion. It Is 
surely worth while enquiring as to whether the 
newspapers could not manage to offer their readers 
noble and Instructive subjects of thought, rather 
than morbid or degrading ones. Fortunately for 
all classes, the bulk of what may be called " maga- 
zine literature " makes distinctly for the Instruc- 
tion and enlightenment of the public, and though 
a *' gutter press " exists In Great Britain, as in 
America, a great portion of the public are now 
educated enough to recognize its type and to treat 
it with the contempt it merits. I quote here part 
of a letter which recently appeared in the West- 
minster Gazette signed " Observer," and entitled: 



RESPONSIBILITY OF THE PRESS 2i 

" A Press-governed Empire. 

" To the Editor of the Westminster Gazette. 

" Sir, — We have it on the highest authority 
that the Government acts on the same information 
as is at the disposal of ' the man in the street ' 
{vide Mr. Balfour at Manchester). The man in 
the street obviously must depend on the Press for 
his information. How has the Press served him? 

" Let me take a recent illustration. A great 
experiment was to be made by the Navy. A 
battleship with all its tremendous armament was 
to pound a battleship. Naturally the Press was 
well represented, and the public was eager for its 
report. 

" In due course a narrative appeared describing 
the terrible havoc wrought. The greatest stress 
was laid upon the instant ignition and complete 
destruction by fire of all the woodwork on the 
doomed ship. Elaborate leading articles appeared 
enforcing the lesson that wood was no longer a 
possible material for the accessory furniture of 
a battleship. 

" A day or two after, a quiet answer in the 
House of Commons from Mr. Goschen Informed 
the limited public who read It, that no fire what- 
ever had occurred on the occasion so graphically 
described by the host of Press correspondents. 

" The events dealt with on these occasions took 
place In our own country, and under our own eyes, 
so to speak. If such untrue reports are set forth 



22 FREE OPINIONS 

with the verisimilitude of accurate and detailed 
personal description of eye-witnesses, what are we 
to say of the truth In the reports of events occur- 
ring at a distance? 

" Special knowledge, special experience long 
continued, speaking under a sense of responsibility, 
are set at naught. The regular channels of infor- 
mation are neglected, and the conduct of affairs Is 
based on newspaper reports. Any private business 
conducted and managed on these lines would be 
immediately ruined. The business of the Empire 
is more important, and the results of its misman- 
agement are more serious. For how long will It 
be possible to continue Its management, trusting 
to the light thrown on events by an irresponsible 
press? " 

• • • • • 

The " irresponsibility " here complained of 
comes out perhaps more often and most glaringly 
in those papers which profess to chronicle the say- 
ings and doings of kings and queens, prime min- 
isters and personages more or less well known In 
the world of art, letters and society. In nine cases 
out of ten, the journalist who reports these sayings 
and doings has never set eyes on the people about 
whom he writes with such a free and easy flip- 
pancy. 

Even If he has, his authority to make their con- 
versation public may be questioned. It Is surely 
not too much to ask of the editors of newspapers 
that they should, by applying directly to the 



RESPONSIBILITY OF THE PRESS 23 

Individuals concerned, ascertain whether such and 
such a statement made to them Is true before giving 
It currency. A couple of penny stamps expended 
In private correspondence would settle the matter 
to the satisfaction of both parties. 

" Personalities," however, would seem to be 
greatly In vogue. Note the following: 

*' At seven o'clock the King left the hotel and 
walked to the spring to drink more of the water. 
Altogether, His Majesty has to drink about a 
quart of the water every morning, before break- 
fast. 

" Standing among the throng, in which every 
type and nationality of humanity was represented, 
the King sipped his second pint glass of water. 

" After drinking the quart of water, the regu- 
lations laid down for the * cure ' further require 
the King to walk for two hours before eating a 
morsel of food. 

" This His Majesty performed by pacing up 
and down the promenade from the Kruez spring 
at one end, to the Ferdinand spring at the other. 

** Notwithstanding all the appeals of the local 
authorities to the visitors, King Edward was * 
much greatly inconvenienced by the snobbish 
curiosity of the crowd." 

One may query whether " the snobbish curiosity 
of the crowd " or the snobbish Information as to 
how " the King sipped his second pint glass of 
* Copied verbatim from the Press report, 



24 FREE OPINIONS 

water " was the more reprehensible. Of course 
there are both men and women who delight in the 
personalities of the Press, especially when they 
concern themselves. Many ladies of rank and 
title are only too happy to have their dresses de- 
scribed to the man in the street, and their physical 
charms discussed by Tom, Dick and Harry. And 
when the Press is amiable enough to oblige them 
in these little yearnings for personal publicity, let 
us hope that the labourer, being worthy of his hire, 
hath his reward. 

The following extract, taken from a daily 
journal boasting a large circulation, can be called 
little less than a pandering to the lowest tastes of 
the abandoned feminine snob, as well as a flagrant 
example of the positively criminal recklessness 
with which Irresponsible journalists permit them- 
selves to incite, by their flamboyant praise of the 
demi-mondaine, the envy and cupidity of thought- 
less girls and women, who perhaps but for the 
perusal of such tawdry stuff, would never have 
known of or half-unconsciously coveted the dress- 
and-diamond gew-gaws which are the common 
reward of female degradation and dishonesty: 

" Miss W., a young American actress, has burst 
upon London. She has brought back from Paris 
to the Savoy Hotel, along with her golden hair 
and lovely brown eyes, an enormous jewel-case, 
innumerable dress-baskets — and a story. It con- 
cerns herself and how she made a fortune on the 



RESPONSIBILITY OF THE PRESS 25 

Paris Bourse, and she told it to our representative 
yesterday. 

" She is an American, and was eating candy 
when she met M. J L . * Ah I ' said he, 

* give up stick and buy stock.' She * took the tip,' 
she says, and staked her fortune^ — every penny — 
on the deal. A fortnight later she came back one 
night to her flat in the Avenue du Bois de Bou- 
logne, from the Olympia, where she plays a lead- 
ing part. A telegram from her bankers was 
waiting. It said: * You have been successful.' 

* Next day,' says Miss W., ' I called on those 
bankers and picked up the £20,000 I had made.' 

" Inveterate Gambler. 

"* Wonderful, wasn't it?' said Miss W., and 
our representative agreed that it was. * Oh, but 
it was a mere nothing ! ' she said. * I have gam- 
bled since I was seven. Then I used to bet in 
pop-corn and always won. At seventeen I was 
quite * a dab ' at spotting winners on the Turf. 

" * Monte Carlo? Oh, yes. I won a trifle 
there this year — £800 or so. And Trouville! 
Why, you may not believe it, but I won £4,000 
there this year in a few weeks. 

" * Of course, I don't know the tricks of the 
Stock Exchange, though I was once chased by a 
bull,' observed Miss W., with a smile. * Still, I 
think I'll stick to it.' 

" Opposite the Bourse is a shop where fashion- 
able Parisians buy their furs. She spent £1,600 



26 FREE OPINIONS 

In a sable coat and hat on the day that the Bourse 
made her. Her other purchases include: — 

Paris hats to the value of £200. 
A robe of baby lamb, £150. 
Fifteen Paquin gowns. 
Two long fur coats. 
Five short fur coats. 
Three sets of furs. 

" She also admits that she bought such trifles 
in the way of jewellery as: — 

A corsage with thirteen large diamonds. 

Eighteen rows of pearls. 

Eighteen diamond rings. 

Two diamond butterflies. 

One emerald ring. 

Several pendants. 

" Diamonds, says Miss W., are the joy of her 
life. Each night on the stage of the Olympla she 
wears between £30,000 and £40,000 worth of 
jewellery." 

The woman who confides her wardrobe list and 
the prices of her clothes to a Fleet Street hack of 
the pen Is far gone past recall, but her manner of 
misdemeaning herself should not be proclaimed In 
the Press under '* headings " as if it were news of 
importance to the country; and It would not be so 
proclaimed were the Press entirely, instead of only 
partially. In the hands of educated men. 

In olden days it would seem that a great part 
of the responsibility of the Press lay in Its criticism 
of art and literature. That burden, however, no 



RESPONSIBILITY OF THE PRESS 27 

longer lies upon its shoulders. Since the people 
began to read for themselves, newspaper criticism, 
so far as books are concerned, carries little weight. 
When some particular book secures a great success, 
we read this kind of thing about it : " In argument, 
intrigue and style it captures the fancy of the 
masses without attracting the slightest attention 
from the critical and discriminating few whose 
approval alone gives any chance of permanence 
to work." This Is, of course, very old hearing. 
" The critical and discriminating few " In Italy 
long ago condemned Dante as a " vulgar " 
rhymer, who used the " people's vernacular." 
Now the much-abused Florentine is the great 
Italian classic. The same " critical and discrimi- 
nating few " condemned John Keats, who is now 
enrolled among the chiefest of English poets. On- 
slaughts of the bitterest kind were hurled at the 
novels of Charles Dickens by the '' critical and 
discriminating few " — In the great writer's time — 
but he " captured the fancy of the masses " and 
lives In the hearts and homes of thousands for 
whom the ** critical and discriminating few " 
might just as well never have existed. And when 
we look up the names of the " critical and dis- 
criminating few " in our own day, we find, strange 
to say, that they are all disappointed authors I 
All of them have written poems or novels, which 
are failures. So we must needs pity their " criti- 
cism " and " discrimination " equally, knowing 
the secret fount of gall from which these delicate 



28 FREE OPINIONS 

emotions spring. At the same time, the ** respon- 
sibility " of the Press might still be appealed to in 
literary, dramatic and artistic matters as, for 
example : 

Why allow an unsuccessful artist to criticize a 
successful picture? 

Why ask an unlucky playwright who cannot get 
even a farce accepted by the managers, to criticize 
a brilliant play? 

Why depute a gentleman or lady who has " es- 
sayed a little unsuccessful fiction " to " review '* 
a novel which has '* captured the fancy of the 
masses " and Is selling well? 

These be weighty matters! Common human 
nature is common human nature all the world over, 
and it is not in common human nature to give praise 
to another for what we ourselves envy. Every one 
has not the same fine endowment of generosity as 
Sir Walter Scott, who wrote an anonymous review 
of Lord Byron's poems, giving them the most 
enthusiastic praise, and frankly stating that after 
the appearance of so brilliant a luminary of genius, 
Walter Scott could no longer be considered worthy 
of attention as a poet. What rhymer of to-day 
would thus nobly condemn himself in order to give 
praise to a rival? 

May it not, with due respect, be suggested to 
those who have the handling of such matters that 
neither the avowed friends nor the avowed foes of 
authors be permitted to review their books? — the 
same rule of criticism to apply equally to the works 



RESPONSIBILITY OF THE PRESS 29 

of musicians, painters, sculptors and playwrights? 
Neither personal prejudice nor personal favourit- 
ism should be allowed to interfere with the impres- 
sion produced on the mind by a work of art. 
Vulgar abuse and fervid eulogy are alike out of 
place. In the productions of the human brain 
nothing is wholly bad and nothing is wholly good. 
Perfection is impossible of attainment on our pres- 
ent plane of existence. We do not find it in 
Nature, — still less shall we find it in ourselves. 
The critic can show good in everything if he him- 
self Is of a good mind. Or he can show bad in 
everything as easily, should his digestion be out 
of order. Unfortunately the ^' wear and tear of 
life " — to quote the patent medicine advertise- 
ments, wreaks natural havoc on the physical com- 
position of the gentleman who is perhaps set 
down to review twenty novels in one column of 
print for the trifling sum of a guinea. All sorts of 
difficulties beset him. For instance, he may be 
employed on a certain " literary " paper which, 
being the property of the relatives of a novelist, 
exists chiefly to praise that novelist, even though 
it be curiously called an " organ of English litera- 
ture,'' — and woe betide the miserable man who 
dares to praise anyone else! Knowing much of 
the ins and outs of the literary grind I tender my 
salutations to all reviewers of books, together with 
my respectful sympathy. I am truly sorry for 
them, and I do not in the least wonder that they 
hate with a deadly hatred every scribbling creature 



so FREE OPINIONS 

who writes a " long " novel. Because the " pay '' 
for reviewing such a book is never in proportion 
to its length, as of course it ought to be. But 
anyway it doesn't matter how much or how little 
of it is criticized. The bulk of the public do not 
read reviews. That is left to the " discriminating 
few." And oh, how that " discriminating few " 
would love to '* capture the fancy of the masses " 
if they could only manage to do it ! Yet — " Never 
mind! " they say, with the tragedian's glare and 
scowl — *' Our names will be inscribed upon the 
scroll of fame when all ye are forgotten ! " Dear 
things! Heaven grant them this poor comfort 
in their graves ! 

One cannot but regret that in these days of 
wonderful research, discovery and invention, so 
little is done to popularize science in the columns 
of the daily Press. The majority of the public are 
appallingly ignorant of astronomy for instance. 
Would it not be as interesting to instruct them in 
a simple and easy style as to the actual wonders of 
the heavens about us, as to fill their minds with the 
details of a murder? I hardly like to touch on the 
subject of geography, for out of fifteen " edu- 
cated " persons I asked the question of recently, 
not one knew the actual situation on the map, of 
Thibet. Now it seems to me that the Press could 
work wonders in the way of education, — much 
more than the " Bill " will ever do. Books on 
science and learning are often sadly dull and gen- 
erally expensive, and the public cannot afford to 



RESPONSIBILITY OE THE PRESS 311 

buy them largely, nor do they ask for them much 
at the libraries. If the daily journals made it a 
rule to give bright picturesque articles on some 
grand old truths or great new discoveries of 
science such a course of procedure would be far 
more productive of good than any amount of 
*' Short Sermons " such as we have lately heard 
discussed in various quarters. For the Press is a 
greater educational force than the Pulpit. In its 
hands it has the social moulding of a people, and 
the dignity of a nation as represented to other 
nations. There could hardly be a nobler task, — 
there can certainly never be a higher responsibihty. 



** PAGAN LONDON*' 

tONDON Is " a pagan city." Such was the 
uncompromising verdict lately pronounced 
-^upon It by the Venerable Archdeacon Sin- 
clair, of great St. Paul's. " A pagan city " — he 
said, or was reported to say, — " with churches 
glimmering here and here like fairy lamps twin- 
kling In the spaces of darkness upon a lawn. Like 
fairy lamps, they serve to show the darkness rather 
than to illuminate it." It was in a manner strik- 
ing and curious that the Archdeacon should have 
chosen such a simile as " fairy lamps " for the 
Churches. It was an unconsciously happy hit — 
no doubt absolutely unintentional. But It described 
the Churches of to-day with marvellous exactitude. 
They are " fairy lamps " — no more! — only fit for 
show — of no use in a storm — and quenched easily 
with a strong puff of wind. Fairy lamps! — not 
strong or steady beacons — not lighthouses in the 
rough sea of life, planted bravely on Impregnable 
rocks of faith to which the drowning sailor may 
cling for rescue and haply find life again. Fairy 
lamps! Multiply them by scores, good Archdea- 
con! — quadruple them in every corner of this 
** pagan " city of ours, over which the heart of 
every earnest thinker must yearn with a passion 

32 



"PAGAN LONDON" 33 

of love and pity, and they shall be no use whatever 
to light the. blackness of one soul's midnight of 
despair! "Pagan London!" The roaring, rush- 
ing crowd — the broad deep river of suffering, 
working, loving, struggling humanity, sweeping 
on, despite itself, to the limitless sea of Death, — 
every unit in the mass craving for sympathy, 
praying for guidance, longing for comfort, trying 
to discover ways out of pain and grief, and hoping 
to find God somehow and somewhere — and 
naught but " fairy lamps " — twinkling doubt- 
fully, making the gloom more visible, the uncer- 
tainty of the gathering shadows more confusing 
and misleading ! — ** fairy lamps " of which the 
*' Church of the Laodiceans," so strongly reproved 
by the " Spirit " in the Revelation of St. John 
the Divine, must have been the originator and 
precursor — " I know thy works, that thou art 
neither cold nor hot; I would thou wert cold or 
hot. So, because thou art lukewarm, and neither 
cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth! " 
It is perhaps to be doubted whether any Church- 
man, no matter how distinguished, learned, fash- 
ionable or popular, has any right to call London 
or any city which is under the Christian dispensa- 
tion " pagan." No one man can honestly say he 
has probed the heart of another, — and if this be 
true, as it undoubtedly is, still less can one man 
assume to judge the faith or the emotions of six 
million hearts — six million striving, working and 
struggling souls. That even a handful of the §Ix 



34 FREE OPINIONS 

million should still wander towards " fairy lamp " 
Churches, in the hope to find warmth and lumi- 
nance for their poor lives in such flickering and eas- 
ily quenched sparks of life, speaks volumes for the 
touching faith, the craving hope, the desire of 
ultimate good, which animates our '* pagan " citi- 
zens. For, if after two thousand years of Chris- 
tianity, some of them are still passionately asking 
to be taught and guided, still praying for strength 
and courage to fight against many natural beset- 
ting sins, and still seeking after such pure ideals 
of work and attainment as can alone make life 
worth living, it is not they, surely, who merit the 
term *' pagan." They should not be so much 
blamed as compassionated, if, when searching for 
God's fair and open sunshine, they only stumble 
at the " fairy lamps," and, angered thereby, turn 
altogether away into the outer darkness. Such a 
term as " pagan " can be applied with far more 
justice to their teachers and preachers, who, hav- 
ing all the means of help and consolation at their 
disposal, fail to perform their high duties with 
either power, conviction or effect. It is quite easy 
to say " Pagan London," but what if one spoke of 
"pagan clergy"? What of certain ecclesiastics 
who do not believe one word of the creed they 
profess, and who daily play the part of Judas 
Iscariot over again in taking money for a new be- 
trayal of Christ? What of the ordained ministers 
of Christianity who are un-Christian in every word 
and act of their daily lives ? What of the surpliced 



"PAGAN LONDON" 3S 

hypocrites who preach to others what they never 
even try to. practise? What of certain vicious 
and worldly clerical bon-vivants, who may con- 
stantly be met with In the houses of wealthy and 
titled persons, '^ clothed in fine linen and faring 
sumptuously every day," talking unsavoury society 
scandal with as much easy glibness as any dissolute 
" lay " decadent that ever cozened another man's 
wife away from the path of honour in the tricky 
disguise of a "Soul"? What of the spiteful, 
small-minded, quarrelsome " local " parsons, who, 
Instead of fostering kindness, neighbourliness, 
good-will and unity among their parishioners, set 
them all by the ears, and play the petty tyrant with 
a domineering obstinacy which Is rather worse 
than pagan, being purely barbarous? Many cases 
could easily be quoted where the childish, not to 
say querulous, pettiness of the ruling vicar of a 
country parish has helped to narrow, coarsen, 
and deteriorate the spirit of a whole community, 
spreading mean jealousies, fostering cheap rival- 
ries, and making every soul In the place, from Sun- 
day school children up to poor workhouse octo- 
genarians, irritable, discontented and unhappy. 
And if the word *' pagan " be used at all, should 
It not be particularly and specially applied to those 
theatrical dignitaries of the Church whose follow- 
ing of the simple and beautiful doctrine of Christ 
consists in sheer disobedience to His commands — 
disobedience openly displayed in the ornate ritual 
and *' vain repetitions " which Christ expressly 



36 FREE OPINIONS 

forbade. " For all their works they do to be 
seen of men; they make broad their phylacteries, 
and enlarge the borders of their garments." And 
while " enlarging the borders of their garments " 
they Institute " processional " services and prom- 
enades round the *' fairy lamp " churches, with 
various altar-bobblngs and other foolish ceremo- 
nies, caring nothing for the Spirit of the faith, if 
only all forms and observances, imported from 
Rome, or from still older " pagan " rites than the 
Roman, namely, the Graeco-Egyptlan, may be In 
some way introduced into the simple and unaf- 
fected form of prayer authorized by the Church 
of England. Disloyal to both God and the King, 
the " pagan clergy " are doing more at this pres- 
ent day to Injure the cause of true religion among 
the masses than is any lack of zeal or want of faith 
that may exist In the people themselves. Who can 
blame sensible men and women for staying away 
from church, when in nine cases out of ten they 
know that the officiating minister is less Christian, 
less enlightened, less charitable and kind-hearted 
than themselves? Canon Allen Edwards, in an 
admirable letter addressed to the Press, put the 
case of *' pagan London " very clearly. He says: 
** We do not want new churches." True. No more 
** fairy lamps " are required for the general mis- 
leading of the straying sheep. He adds: *' We 
want new men." 

This is the real need — ^men! Men of thought 
w^in^n of heart, — men of true conviction, ardent 



"PAGAN LONDON" 37 

faith, passionate exaltation, and unceasing devo- 
tion, — men who will not play about with " show " 
services, like amateur actors In a charity perform- 
ance, — but who will sincerely care for and sympa- 
thize with their fellow-creatures, and will offer 
up the prayer and praise of humanity to an all- 
wise Omnipotence with that deep heartfelt fervour 
which Is always expressed In the utmost simplicity 
of form and language, — men who have the Intelli- 
gence to understand Intelligent people, and who 
are as able to deal sympathetically with the spirit- 
ual troubles and perplexities of an educated person 
as with chose of the Ill-taught and frequently Ill- 
fed rustic, — men who. If they preach, can find 
something to say of the marvels of this God-born 
creation of which we are a part — who will teach 
as well as admonish, — and who will take reverent 
care not to set the Almighty Creator within a small 
circle of their own special form of orthodoxy, and 
condemn every creature that wanders outside that 
exclusive " fairy lamp " enclosure. Canon Allen 
Edwards further remarked that " The reason why 
the working classes do not go to church Is the same 
reason why I do not go to the Derby, not because 
I think It wrong, for I have no opinion on the sub- 
ject, but because I have no interest In the things 
that go on there. And this is the reason, and no 
other, why many men do not go to church. They 
are not interested in what Is done there. ... A 
large number of those who are going into the 
ministry to-day are, for one most essential part 



38 FREE OPINIONS 

of their work, entirely without the first elements 
of equipment. They cannot preach, and they are 
not helped to try and learn, and yet preaching is 
that very part of their work for which the people 
expect, and have a right to expect, equipment 
of the highest order/' 

The Canon says : *' they cannot preach." That 
is true enough, but why? I maintain that if they 
felt their mission, they could preach it. If they 
loved their fellow-creatures a thousand times bet- 
ter than themselves, as they should do, they would 
find much of greatness, beauty and truth to say I 
If they honoured and worshipped their Divine 
Master as they profess to honour and worship 
Him, there would be little lack of spirit or of elo- 
quence ! People always know when a speaker or 
a preacher is in earnest. He may have a faulty 
utterance — his elocution may be far from perfect, 
but if the heart attunes the voice, the voice carries. 
There are many hundreds of noble clergy — but 
they are fewer than the ignoble of the same calling. 
And many there are, not only ignoble in them- 
selves, but who attempt to pervert their very 
churches to illegitimate uses. I quote the follow- 
ing from a letter addressed to me on one occasion 
by a notorious " minister " of the Gospel. 

" As the vicar of one of the largest parishes 
in England, I am often put to it how best to attract 
to the church the careless and the indifferent. 
Though a very strong High Anglican, I am an 
intense believer in the Priesthood of the Laity, 



"PAGAN LONDON" 39 

It is the one weak spot In the Church's system that 
she does not, as do the non-conformists, make 
sufficient use of and properly appreciate the serv- 
ices of her lay members. It has occurred to me 
therefore this year that by way of a start in this 
direction I should ask the help of certain leading 
people in the Literary, Dramatic and Artistic 
worlds. My friend, Mrs. X., has already made a 
beginning by reciting two poems in my Church, 
and thereby moving intensely a congregation of 
upwards of 3,000 people." Now Mrs. X. was, 
and is, a well-known actress, and she recited the 
two poems in question from the chancel steps at the 
conclusion of the Sunday evening service, I am 
told, (though for this I will not vouch,) that 
money was taken at the church doors, and seats 
reserved and paid for, precisely as if the sacred 
building had been suddenly metamorphosed into 
a theatre or music hall. It never seemed to occur 
to the reverend gentleman who is the proprietor 
of this once " consecrated " building, that if he 
could not attract to his church " the careless and 
indifferent," the fault probably lay in himself and 
his general unfitness. As a '* very strong High 
Anglican " he would naturally have leanings 
towards the theatre and its lime-light effects, and 
certes the " Priesthood of the Laity," whatever 
may be meant by that term, is more to be believed 
in than the Priesthood of this particular ordained 
" priest " who instituted and encouraged a kind of 
stage recital from the steps of a sacred chancel, 



40 FREE OPINIONS 

where the actor or actress concerned was invited 
to declaim his or her lines, with back turned to the 
Altar, the Communion-table serving as the " scen- 
ery." Such men as these are the real " pagans," 
and they do infinite harm to the dignity and purity 
of the Christian doctrine by their unworthy and 
debasing example. Churches under their domi- 
nance are less than " fairy lamps " in their influ- 
ence for good, — they are the mere flare of stage 
footlights, showing up the grease-paint and pow- 
der of the clerical mime. 

A deep religious sentiment lies at the hearts of 
the British people, as indeed of all peoples in the 
world. No nation, small or great, was ever en- 
tirely given over to atheism. If atheism and indif- 
ference affect a few, or even a majority of persons, 
the fault is assuredly with those who are elected to 
teach " the Way, the Truth, and the Life." They 
are chosen and solemnly ordained to be the friends, 
lovers and guides of humanity, — not to be selfish 
pedants, quarrelsome quidnuncs, and bigoted des- 
pots, exposing themselves as they often do, to 
the righteous scorn, as well as to the careless con- 
tempt of the more honest laity. When they show 
themselves unworthy, the people fall away. When 
even one minister of religion appears as co-respon- 
dent in a divorce case, tens of thousands of men 
and women turn their backs on the Church. When 
anything low, mean, despicable or treacherous is 
said or done by a professing " servant of Christ," 
the evil word or deed from such a source makes 



"PAGAN LONDON" 41 

Christianity a byword to many more than the 
merely profane. When certain great dignitaries 
of the Church sit wine-bibbing at " swagger " din- 
ner-parties, relating questionable or " spicy " anec- 
dotes unfitting for the ears of decent women, they 
lose not only caste themselves, but they lay all 
the brethren of their order open to doubt. " Ex- 
ample is better than precept." We have all writ- 
ten that In our school copy-books, — and nothing 
has ever happened, or even will happen, that Is 
likely to contradict the statement. If London is 
Indeed a *' pagan " city, as Archdeacon Sinclair 
has solemnly declared from under the shadowy 
luminance of his own big " fairy lamp," St. Paul's 
Cathedral, then the clergy, and the clergy alone 
are responsible. On their '' ordained " heads be 
it! For " pagan " people are merely the natural 
outcome of a " pagan " priesthood. 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 

PROPOUNDED TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN 

BEFORE fully entering on this paper, I 
should like those who may be inclined to 
read it to understand very distinctly, once 
and for all, that I am a Christian. I am sorry 
that the too-hasty misjudgment of others com- 
pels me to assert the fact. The term " Athe- 
ist '' has been applied to me by several persons 
who should know better, — for it is an absolutely 
false, and I may add, libellous accusation. That 
it has been uttered unthinkingly and at random, 
by idle chatterers who have never read a line I 
have written I can well believe, — nevertheless it 
IS a mischievous rumour, as senseless as wicked. 
Poor and inadequate as my service is, and must 
ever be, still I am a follower of the Christian 
Faith, as expounded in Christ's own words to His 
disciples. I believe that Christian Faith to be the 
grandest and purest in the world, — the most hope- 
ful, the most strengthening, the most soul-sup- 
porting and ennobling religion ever taught to 
humanity. To me, in hours of the bitterest trial, 
it has proved not " a reed shaken by the wind," — 
but a rock firmer than the foundations of the 
world, against which the waves of tribulation 

42 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 43 

break In vain and disperse to naught, — and when 
brought face to face with Imminent death as I 
have been, It has kept me fearless and calm. I 
know — because I have experienced, — Its priceless 
worth, Its truth. Its grand uplifting-power; and It 
is because this simple Christian Faith is so dear 
to me, and so much a part of my every-day life, 
that I venture to ask a few straight questions of 
those, who calling themselves Christians, seem to 
have lost sight altogether of their Master and His 
commands. I like people who are consistent. In- 
consistency of mind is like uncleanliness of body; 
It breeds discomfort and disease. And In this 
wonderful age of ours. In which there Is so little 
real " greatness," — when even the tried heroism 
of our leading statesmen and generals Is sullied 
by contemptible jealousies and petty discussions 
of a quarrelsome nature, — when the minds of men 
are bent chiefly on money-making and mechanical 
Inventions to save labour (labour being most un- 
fortunately estimated as a curse Instead of the 
blessing it indubitably is), I find Inconsistency the 
chief ingredient of all modern thought. Things 
are jumbled up In a heterogeneous mass, without 
order, distinction or merit. And the principal 
subject on which men and women are most wlldl^' 
glaringly Inconsistent is that which Is suppose ' 
be the guiding rule of life — Religion. I shoux^ 
like to try and help to settle this vexed question. 
I want to find out what the Christian Empire 
means by its " faith." I venture to hft up my 



44 FREE OPINIONS 

voice as the voice of one alone in the wilderness, 
and to send it with as clear a pitch and true a tone 
as I can across the sea of discussion, — the stormy 
ocean of angry and contradictory tongues, — and 
I ask bluntly and straightly, " What is it all about? 
Do YOU BELIEVE YOUR RELIGION, OR DO YOU 
NOT? " 

It is an honest question, and demands an honest 
answer. Put it to yourselves plainly. Do YOU 
BELIEVE WITH ALL YOUR HEART AND SOUL IN 
THE FAITH YOU PROFESS TO FOLLOW? 

Again — put it with equal plainness — Do YOU 
NOT BELIEVE ONE IOTA OF IT ALL? AnD ARE 
YOU ONLY FOLLOWING IT AS A MATTER OF CUS- 
TOM AND FORM? 

Let US, my reader or readers, be round and 
frank with each other. If you are a Christian, 
your religion is to believe that Christ was a human 
Incarnation or Manifestation of an Eternal God, 
born miraculously of the Virgin Mary; that He 
was crucified in the flesh as a criminal, died, was 
buried, rose again from the dead, and ascended 
to heaven as God and Man in one, and there per- 
petually acts as Mediator between mankind and 
Divine Justice. Remember, that if you believe 
this you believe in the purely supernatural. 
But let any one talk or write of the purely super- 
natural as existent in any other form save this 
one of the Christian Faith, and you will probably 
be the first to scout the idea of the supernatural 
altogether. Why? Where is your consistency? 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 45 

If you believe In one thing which Is supernatural, 
why not In Others? 

Now let us consider the other side of the ques- 
tion. You who do not believe, but still pretend 
to do so, for the sake of form and conventional 
custom, do you realize what you are? You con- 
sider yourself virtuous and respectable, no doubt; 
but facts are facts, and you, in your pretence at 
faith, are nothing but a Liar. The honest sun- 
shiny face of day looks on you, and knows you for 
a hypocrite — a miserable unit who is trying In a 
vague, mad fashion to cheat the Eternal Forces. 
Be ashamed of lying, man or woman, whichever 
you be! Stand out of the press and say openly 
that you do not believe; so at least shall you be 
respected. Do not show . any religious leanings 
either to one side or the other " for the sake of 
custom " — and then we shall see you as you are, 
and refrain from branding you " liar." I would 
say to all, clergy and laity, who do not In their 
hearts believe In the Christian Faith, *' Go out of 
all churches; stand aside and let us see who Is 
who. Let us have space In which to count up those 
who are willing to sacrifice all their earthly well- 
being for Christ's sake (for it amounts to nothing 
less than this), and those who prefer this world 
to the next." I will not presume to calculate as 
to which will form the larger majority. I only 
say It Is absurd to keep up churches, and an enor- 
mous staff of clergy, archbishops, bishops, popes, 
cardinals, and the like, for a faith in which we do 



46 FREE OPINIONS 

not TRULY, ABSOLUTELY, AND ENTIRELY BELIEVE. 
It is a mere pageant of Inflated Falsehood, and as 
such must be loathsome In the sight of God, — this 
always with the modern proviso, " If there Indeed 
be a God." Yet, apart from a God altogether. It 
Is degrading to ourselves to play the hypocrite 
with the serious facts of life and death. There- 
fore, I ask you again — Do you believe, or do you 
not believe? My object In proposing the question 
at all Is to endeavour to show the spiritual and 
symbolic basis upon which the Christian Faith 
rests, and the paramount necessity there Is for 
accepting It In Its pristine purity and beauty, if 
we would be wise. To grasp It thoroughly, we 
must view It, not as It now seems to look to us 
through the darkening shadows of sectarianism, 

BUT AS IT WAS ORIGINALLY FOUNDED. The time 

has come upon us that Is spoken of in the New 
Testament, when " one shall be taken and the 
other left," and the sorting of the sheep from the 
goats has already commenced. It can be said with 
truth that most of our Churches, as they now exist, 
are diametrically opposed to the actual teachings 
of their Divine Founder. It can be proved that In 
our daily lives we live exactly In the manner which 
Christ Himself would have most sternly con- 
demned. And when all the proofs are put before 
you plainly, and without disguise or hyperbole. In 
the simplest and stralghtest language possible, I 
shall again ask you, " Do you believe, or do 
YOU NOT BELIEVE?" If you do believe, declare 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 47 

It openly and live accordingly; If you do not 
believe, in God's name leave off lying! 

The Symbolism of the Christian Faith has been, 
and is still, very much lost sight of, owing to the 
manner in which the unimaginative and unthink- 
ing majority of people will persist in looking at 
things from a directly physical, materialistic and 
worldly point of view. But if we take the life 
and character of Christ as a Symbolic representa- 
tion of that Perfect Manhood which alone can be 
pleasing to God, — which alone can be worthy to 
call the Divine Source of Creation " Father! " — 
some of our difficulties may possibly be removed. 
Christ's Gospel was first proclaimed in the East, — 
and the Eastern people were accustomed to learn 
the great truths of religion by a " symbolic," or 
allegorical method of instruction. Christ Himself 
knew this, — for " He tauglit them many things 
by parables." 

We shall do well to keep this spirit of Eastern 
symbolism in mind when considering the " miracu- 
lous " manner of Christ's birth. Note the extreme 
poverty, humility, well-nigh shame attending it? 
Joseph doubted Mary, and was " minded to put 
her away privily." Mary herself doubted the 
Angelic Annunciation, and said, " How shall this 
be?" 

Thus, even with those most closely concerned, 
a cloud of complete disbelief and distrust envi- 
roned the very thought, suggestion, and announce- 
ment of the God-in-Man. 



48 FREE OPINIONS 

It shall be remembered that the Evangelists, 
Mark and John, have no account of a " miracu- 
lous " birth at all. John, supreme as a Symbolist, 
the *' disciple whom Jesus loved," wrote, " The 
WORD was made flesh and dwelt among us." 

Securing this symbolic statement for ourselves, 
we find that two of the chief things to which we 
attach importance in this world — namely, birth 
and position — are altogether set aside in this 
humanizing of the WORD, and are of no account 
whatever. And, that the helpless Child lying in a 
manger on that first Christmas morning of the 
world, was, — despite poverty and humility, — fore- 
destined to possess more power than all the kings 
and emperors ever born in the purple. 

Thus, the first lessons we get from the birth of 
Christ are — Faith and Humility — these are indeed 
the whole spirit of His Divine doctrine. 

Now, — How does this spirit pervade our social 
community to-day, after nearly two thousand years 
of constant preaching and teaching? 

Look round on the proud array of the self- 
important, pugnacious, quarrelsome, sectarian and 
intolerant so-called " servants of the Lord." The 
Pope of Rome, and his Cardinals and his Mon- 
signoril The Archbishop of Canterbury, and his 
Bishops, Deacons, Deans and chapters and the 
like ! The million '' sects " — and all the cumbrous 
paraphernalia of the wealthy and worldly, " or- 
dained " to preach the Gospel! Ask them for 
'* proofs" of faith! For signs of "humility"! 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 49 

For evidences of any kind to show that they are 
in very soul and life and truth, the followers of 
that Master who never knew luxury, and had not 
where to lay His head ! 

And you, among the laity, how can you pray, 
or pretend to pray to a poor and despised " Man 
of Sorrows," in these days, when with every act 
and word of your life you show your neighbours 
that you love Money better than anything else In 
earth or In heaven ! — when even you who are mil- 
lionaires only give and do just as much as will 
bring you notoriety, or purchase you a *' handle " 
to your names! Why do you bend your hypo- 
critical heads on Sundays to the Name of " Jesus," 
who (so far as visible worldly position admitted) 
was merely the son of a carpenter, and followed 
the carpenter's trade, while on week-days you 
make no secret of your scorn of, or indifference to 
the " working-man," and more often than not 
spurn the beggar from your gates! 

Be consistent, friends! — be consistent! If YOU 
BELIEVE IN Christianity, you must also believe 
in these three things : — 

1. The virtue of poverty. 

2. The dignity of labour. 

3. The excellence of simplicity. 

Rank, wealth, and all kinds of ostentation 
should be to you pitiable — not enviable. 

Is IT so? Do you prefer poverty, with a pure 
conscience, to ill-gotten riches? Would you rather 
be a faithful servant of Christ or a slave of Mam- 



50 FREE OPINIONS 

mon? Give the answer to your own soul, — but 
give it honestly — if you can! 

If you find, on close self-examination, that you 
love yourself, your own importance, your position, 
your money, your household goods and clothes, 
your place in what you call " society," more than 
the steady working for and following of Christ, — 
YOU ARE NOT A CHRISTIAN. That being the case, 
be brave about it! Say what you are, and do not 
pretend to be what you are not ! 

It ought to be quite easy for you to come to a 
clear understanding with yourselves. Take down 
the New Testament and read it. Read it as closely 
and carefully as you read your cheap newspapers, 
and with as much eagerness to find out " news." 
For news there is in it, and of grave import. Not 
news affecting the things of this world, which pass 
like a breath of wind and are no more, — ^but news 
which treats of Eternal Facts, outlasting the crea- 
tion and re-creation of countless worlds. Read 
this book for yourselves, I say, rather than take it 
in portions on Sundays only from your clergy, — 
and devote your earnest attention to the simple 
precepts uttered by Christ Himself. If you are a 
Christian, you believe Christ was an Incarnation 
of God, — then does it not behove you to listen 
when God speaks? Or is it a matter of indif- 
ference to you that the Maker and Upholder of 
millions of universes should have condescended to 
come and teach you how to live? If it is, then 
stand forth and let us see you! Do not attend 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 51 

places of worship merely to be noticed by your 
neighbours. , For, — apart from such conduct being 
strictly forbidden by Christ, — you insult other 
persons by your presence as a liar and hypocrite. 
This is what you may call a *' rude " statement; — 
plain-speaking and truth-telling are always called 
'' rude." You will find the utmost plain-speaking 
In the Gospels upon which you profess to pin your 
faith. If you have any " fancy Ritualism " lurk- 
ing about you, you will discover that " forms " 
are not tolerated by the Saviour of mankind. 

" All their works they do for to be seen of men; 
they make broad their phylacteries and enlarge the 
borders of their garments." 

" Shows " of religion are severely censured and 
condemned by Him whose commands we assume 
to try and obey — we can scarcely find even a peg 
whereon to hang an excuse for our practice of 
praying in public, while '' vain repetitions " of 
prayer are expressly prohibited. I repeat — Read 
the Four Gospels; they are very much mis-read 
In these days, and even In the Churches are only 
gabbled. See If your private and personal lives 
are in keeping with the commands there set down. 
If not, cease to play Humbug with the Eternities ; 
— they will avenge themselves upon your hypoc- 
risy in a way you dream not of! *' Whosoever 
excuses himself accuses himself." 

The true Christian faith has no dogma, — no 
form, — no sect. It starts with Christ as God-in- 
Man, in an all-embracing love for God and His 



52 FREE OPINIONS 

whole Creation, with an explicit and clear under- 
standing (as symbolized so emphatically in the 
Crucifixion and Resurrection), that each individ- 
ual Soul is an immortal germ of life, in process of 
eternal development, to which each new " experi- 
ence " of thought, whether on this planet or 
others, adds larger powers, wider intelligence, and 
intensified consciousness. There are no " isms ^' 
in this faith — no bigotry, and no intolerance. It 
leaves no ground for discussion. 

" This is my commandment, — That ye love one 
another as I have loved you." 

It is all there, — simple, straight and pure — no 
more, no less than this. 

" Love feels no burden, thinks nothing of trou- 
ble, attempts what Is above its strength, pleads no 
excuse of impossibility. It is, therefore, able to 
undertake all things, and it completes many things 
and warrants them to take effect where he who 
does not love would faint and lie down. Love is 
watchful, and, sleeping, slumbereth not. Though 
weary, it is not tired; though alarmed, it is not con- 
founded, but, as a lively flame and burning torch, 
it forces its way upwards, and securely passes 
all. . . . Love is born of God and cannot rest 
but In God, above all created things." 

Is our Gospel of modern life and society to-day 
one of love or of hate? Do we help each other 
more readily than we kick each other down? Do 
we prefer to praise or to slander our neighbours? 
Is it not absolutely true that " a crviel story runs 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 53 

on wheels, and every hand oils the wheels as they 
run"? Can we leave anybody alone without 
covert or open detraction from his or her merits? 
Even in the most ordinary, every-day life do we 
not see people taking a malicious, insane delight 
in making their next-door neighbours as uncom- 
fortable as possible in every petty way they can? 
These persons, by the way, are generally the class 
who go to Church most regularly, and are con- 
stant Communicants. Do they not by their 
profane attempt to assimilate the malignity of 
their dispositions with the gospel of Christ, deserve 
to be considered as mere blasphemers of the Faith? 

Yet, as a matter of fact, it is much easier to love 
than to hate. Love Is the natural and native air 
of the Immortal soul. '' While we fulfil the law 
of love in all our thoughts and actions, we cannot 
fail to grow." Hatred, discontent, envy, and pes- 
simism, cramp all the higher faculties of the mind 
and very often actually breed disease in the body. 
To love all creation is to draw the responsive 
health and life of creation into one's own immortal 
cognizance. " Love easily loosens all our bonds. 
There is no discomfort that will not yield to Its 
sovereign power." But it must not be a selfish 
love. It must be a Love which is the keynote of 
the Christian Faith — " Love one another as I have 
loved you." 

It follows very plainly that if we truly loved one 
another there would be no wars, no envyings, no 
racial hatreds, no over-reaching of our brethren 



54 FREE OPINIONS 

for either wealth, place or power. There would 
be no such hells as the Lancashire factories, for 
example, where, as Allen Clarke graphically tells 
us,^ " Amidst that sickening jerry-jumble of cheap 
bricks and cheaper British industry, over a hun- 
dred thousand men, women and children, toil and 
exist, sweating in the vast, hot, stuffy mills and 
sweltering forges — going, when young, to the 
smut-surrounded schools to improve their minds, 
and trying to commune with the living God in the 
dreary, dead, besmirched churches and grimy puri- 
tanical chapels; growing up stunted, breeding 
thoughtlessly, dying prematurely, knowing not, nor 
dreaming, except for here and there a solitary one 
cursed with keen sight and sensitive soul, of aught 
better and brighter than this sickening, steaming 
sphere of slime and sorrow." Contrast this pic- 
ture with a crowded " supper-night " at the Carl- 
ton or any other fashionable Feeding-place of Lon- 
don, and then maintain, if you dare, that the men 
and women who are responsible for two such dif- 
fering sides of life are " Christians " ! 

England is, we are told, in danger of becoming 
" Romanized." Priests and nuns of various 
" orders " who have been thrust out of France and 
Spain for intermeddling, are seeking refuge here, 
in company with the organ-grinders and other folk 
who have been found unnecessary in their own 
countries. From Paris official news was cabled on 
September ii, 1902, as follows: — 

*"Eflfect8 of the Factory System."— Allen Clarke. 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 55 

" JESUIT EXODUS FROM FRANCE. 

" Paris, Wednesday, September 1 1 . 
" It Is announced officially that by the ist of 
next month not a single Jesuit will be left In 
France. Most of them are emigrating to Eng- 
land, and will make Canterbury their headquar- 
ters. — Dalziel." France will not have the 
Jesuits ; may It be asked why we are to have them ? 
It Is England's proud privilege to be an Inter- 
national workhouse for all the decrepit of the 
world, and for this cause a happy hunting ground 
is open to Rome among these same decrepit. 
There is no creed in the world which is better 
adapted for those who are morally weak and 
frightened of themselves. All the millionaires 
who have gotten their goods by fraud, can, by 
leaving the greater part of these goods to Rome, 
secure a reserved seat in Rome's Heaven, with a 
special harp and crown. All the women with 
" soul-affinities " other than lawful, can, after a 
considerable wallow in social mire, enter the 
Church of Rome, and, after confession, be 
" cleansed " sufficiently to begin again a new life 
approved of the saints. All the spiritualists and 
faith-healers can find support for their theories 
with Rome, — and the Roman hell, full of large 
snakes and much brimstone, Is a satisfactory place 
to consign one's enemies to, when we have quite 
put aside Christ's command, " Love one another." 
Altogether Romanism is calculated to appeal to 
a very large majority of persons through the sen- 



56 FREE OPINIONS 

suous and emotional beauty of its ritual; — it is a 
kind of heavenly narcotic which persuades the 
believer to resign his own will into the hypnotic 
management of the priests. The church is made 
gorgeous with soft lights and colours, — glorious 
music resounds through the building, and the mind 
drowses gently under the influence of the Latin 
chanting, which we need not follow unless we like, 
— we are permitted to believe that a large number 
of saints and angels are specially looking after us, 
and the sweet Virgin Mary is ever ready with out- 
stretched hands to listen to all our little griefs and 
vexations. It is a beautiful and fascinating Creed, 
hallowed by long antiquity, graced by deeds of 
romance and chivalry, sanctified by the memories 
of great martyrs and pure saints, and even in these 
degenerate days, glorified by the noble-hearted 
men and women who follow it without bigotry or 
intolerance, doing good everywhere, tending the 
sick, comforting the sorrowful, and gathering up 
the little children into their protecting arms, even 
as Jesus Himself gathered them. It would need 
an angel's pen dipped In fire, to record the true 
history of a faithful, self-denying priest of the 
Roman Church, who gives up his own advantage 
for the sake of serving others, — who walks fear- 
lessly into squalid dens reeking with fever, and 
sets the pure Host between the infected lips of the 
dying, — who combats with the Demon of Drink, 
and drags up the almost lost reprobate out of that 
horrible chasm of vice and destruction. No one 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 57 

could ever give sufficient honour to such a man for 
all the Immense amount of good he does, unos- 
tentatiously and without hope of reward. But 
many men like himself exist equally in the English 
Church as the Roman, — in the Presbyterian 
Church, in the Greek Church, in the Buddhist 
temples, among the Quakers, " Plymouth Breth- 
ren," and other sects — among the followers of 
Mahomet or of Confucius. For there are good 
men and good women in every Church, faithful 
to the SPIRIT OF Christ, and, therefore, " Chris- 
tians," even if called Jews or Hindoos. 

Personally, I have no more objection or dislike 
to Romanism than I have to any other " ism " 
ever formulated. From a student's point of view 
I admire the Roman Catho-lic priesthood, because 
they understand their business, and thoroughly 
know the material with which they have to deal. 
Wise as their Egyptian prototypes of old, they 
decline to unveil *' mysteries " to the uninitiated 
vulgar — therefore the laity are not expected to 
read the Bible for themselves. Knowing the ter- 
rors of a guilty conscience, they are able to intimi- 
date the uneducated ruffian of both sexes more 
successfully than all the majesty of the law. 
Thoroughly aware of the popular delight in 
" shows," they organize public processions on feast 
days, just as the *' Masters of the Stars " used to 
do in Memphis, where by the way (as tKose who 
take the trouble to study ancient Egyptian records 
will discover), our latest inventions, such as the 



58 FREE OPINIONS 

electric light, the telephone, the phonograph, and 
many other modern conveniences, were used by 
the priests for " miraculous " effects. From the 
Egyptian priesthood we derive the beginnings of 
scientific discovery; — to the early Roman Catholic 
priesthood we owe the preservation of much his- 
tory and learning. The one is, intellectually speak- 
ing, a lineal descendant of the other, and both 
deserve the utmost respect for their immense 
capacity as Rulers of the Ignorant. 

The greater majority of persons have no force 
of will and no decided opinions, but only an under- 
sense of coward fear or vexation at the possible 
unsuccessful or damaging result of their own ill- 
doings. Hence the power of the Roman Catholic 
dogma. It is not Christianity; it has not the 
delicate subtlety of Greek mythology; it is simply 
pagan Rome engrafted on the conversion and 
repentance of the Jew, Peter, who, in the time of 
trial, " knew not the Man." Curiously enough, 
it is just the " Man " the real typical Christ, the 
pure, strong God-in-humanity who is still " not 
known " in the Roman Catholic ritual. There are 
prayers to the " Sacred Heart " and to other physi- 
cal attributes of Jesus, — just as in old Rome there 
were prayers to the physical attributes of the 
various deities, but of the perfect " Man," as seen 
in Christ's dauntless love of truth and exposure 
of shames. His scourging of the thieves out of the 
holy temple. His grand indifference to the world's 
malice and hatred, and His conquest over death 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 59 

and the grave, — of these things we are given no 
clear or helpful image. Nevertheless, it is the 
" Man " we most need, — the " Man " who came 
to us to teach us how to live; — the brother, the 
friends, the close sympathizer, — the great Creator 
of all life mingling Himself with His human crea- 
tion in a beautiful, tender, loving, wise and all- 
pitiful Spirit, wherein is no hate, no revenge, and 
no intolerance! This is the Christ; — this is His 
Christianity. Romanism, on the contrary, allows 
plenty of space for those who want to hate as well 
as to love, and it is as helpful or as useless as any 
of the thousand and one dogmas built up around 
Christ, dogmas which include bad passions as well 
as divine aspirations. The danger of such a creed 
gaining too much ground in England, the land 
where our forefathers fought against it and tram- 
pled it out with their own blood and tears, is not 
because it is a particular form of religious Faith, 
but because it is an intolerant system of secret 
Government. This has been proved over and 
over again throughout history. Its leaders have 
not shown themselves as gentle pagans by any 
means, either now or in the past; — and intolerance 
in any form, from any sect, is no part of the 
Constitution of a free country. 

Hence the real cause of the objection which has 
been entertained by millions of persons in the 
Empire to the suggested alteration of the King's 
Coronation oath. The British King is a Constitu- 
tional monarch, — and the words " Defender of 



6o FREE OPINIONS 

the Faith " Imply that he Is equally Defender of 
the Constitution. He agrees, when he Is crowned 
King of England, to uphold that Constitution, — 
he therefore tacitly rejects all that might tend to 
undermine it, — all secret methods of tampering 
with political, governmental or financial matters 
relating to the State. The wording of the Coro- 
nation Oath is, and must be distinctly offensive to 
thousands of excellent persons who are Roman 
Catholics, — nevertheless. In the times when It was 
so worded, the offending terms were made neces- 
sary by the conduct of the Roman Catholics them- 
selves. Those times, we are assured, are past. 
We have made progress in education, — we are 
now broad-minded enough to be fair to foes, as 
well as to friends. We should, therefore. In 
common courtesy to a rival Church, consent to 
have this Irritating formula altered. Perhaps we 
should, — but Is It too much to ask our Roman 
Catholic brethren that they also should. If they 
wish for tolerance, exhibit It on their own side? 
When Queen Victoria died, was It not quite as 
offensive on the part of Pope Leo to publicly state 
that he *' could not be represented at the funeral of 
a Protestant Queen " — as it may be for our King 
to publicly repudiate the service of the Mass? 
Nothing could have been more calculated to gra- 
tuitously wound the feelings of a great People 
than that most unnecessary announcement made 
from an historical religious centre like the Vatican, 
at a time of universal grief for the death of a 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 6i 

good Monarch. If the Pope's act was according 
to the rule of his Church, the King's oath is 
according to the rule of the British Constitution. 
No one could accuse the Pope of any particularly 
*' Christian " feeling in declining to be represented 
at the last obsequies of the best Queen that ever 
reigned — no one can or would ever conscientiously 
accuse an English King of " religious intolerance " 
when he takes the oath as It Is set down for him. 
Both acts are matters of policy. We have seen 
the foremost peer of England, the Duke of Nor- 
folk, forgetting himself so far on one occasion as 
to drag his religious creed into the political arena, 
and publicly expressing the hope on behalf of all 
English Catholics that the Pope may soon regain 
temporal power (which rneans, to put It quite 
plainly, that the British Constitution should be 
disintegrated and laid under subjection to Rome) : 
the natural consequence of such conduct is that an 
enormous majority of perfectly sensible broad- 
minded people doubt whether It Is wise to leave 
an entirely loose rein on the neck of the papal 
Pegasus. Tolerance and equity on the one side 
must be met by tolerance and equity on the other, 
if a fair understanding Is to be arrived at. And 
when the professors of any religious Creed still 
persecute heroism and Intellect, or refuse reverence 
to the last rite of a noble Queen, whose long reign 
was a blessing to the whole world, one may be 
permitted to question their fitness for the task of 
elevating and refining the minds and morals of 



62 FREE OPINIONS 

those whom their teachings help to influence. 
And having, as a man of intellectual and keen 
perception, the full consciousness that such unut- 
tered " questioning " was burning the hearts and 
minds of thousands, the late Cardinal Vaughan 
showed himself a master of the art of Roman 
Catholic diplomacy in his speech at Newcastle-on- 
Tyne on September 9, 1902. Speaking of the 
inrush of Roman Catholic priests into England, 
he said: — 

" A statement from a London paper has been 
running through the provincial Press to the effect 
that I have deliberately outraged public feeling 
by inviting to England certain French religieux, 
some of those confreres who have made them- 
selves particularly obnoxious by their constant 
attacks upon this country. The fact is that, upon 
the passing of the iniquitous law against the 
religious congregations, I gave a general invita- 
tion to any religieux who might wish to come to 
my diocese until they could return to France. 
Among those who applied were three or four 
fathers, some of those confreres who do not love 
England. My invitation being general, I was 
not, and am not going to make distinctions. None 
will come who do not intend to obey the laws and 
follow my direction. And if there be any who 
have not been sufficiently enlightened to appreciate 
this country while living in France, they are the 
very people who had best come and make our 
acquaintance. This is the surest way to change 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 63 

their views. But while England boasts of her 
generous hospitality to every kind of refugee, I 
shall certainly offer whatever hospitality I can to 
the men and women who have suffered for Christ's 
sake. / am too broad an Englishman to know 
any other policy ^ 

" Broad Englishman '* as the Cardinal pro- 
fessed to be, he had no pity on the aged Dr. St. 
George Mivart, the circumstances of whose treat- 
ment are not yet forgotten. 

Speaking of the Coronation oath, the Cardinal 
said: ^' I entirely and frankly accept the decision 
of the country that the King must be a Protestant. 
They believe that this is in some way bound up 
with the welfare of the Empire. Without 
GOING THIS LENGTH, J am convinced that In 
the present condition of the English people, 

HAUNTED AS THEY ARE BY FEARS AND SUS- 
PICIONS, It Is expedient that the King should be 
of the religion of the overwhelming majority. 
Besides, the King being. In virtue of Royal 
supremacy, head of the State Church, It Is Im- 
possible that he should be other than a Protestant. 
Catholics have no difficulty in paying most loyal 
allegiance to a Protestant Sovereign. In this they 
seem to be of more liberal and confiding temper 
than those who would refuse allegiance to a King 
unless he professed their creed. The Catholic 
has no difficulty, because he gives his allegiance 
and his life, when needed, primarily to the civil 
power ordained of God." 



64 FREE OPINIONS 

(The Cardinal did not pause here to try and 
explain why God has thus " ordained " a Protes- 
tant sovereign instead of a Roman Catholic one! 
Yet no doubt he will admit that God knows 
best.) 

*' The Sovereign represents this power, 
whatever be his religion. Was it not Catholic 
Belgium that placed the Protestant King Leopold 
upon the Throne, and gave to him at least as 
hearty a devotion as ever has been shown to his 
Catholic successor? Other Catholic States are 
ruled by Protestant Sovereigns. And who can 
say that the 16,000,000 of German Catholics are 
a whit less loyal to their German Protestant 
Emperor than the millions who are of the Protes- 
tant or of no religion? There are people, I be- 
lieve, pursued by the conviction that we Catholics 
would do anything in the world to get a Catholic 
King upon the Throne ; that the Pope would give 
us leave to tell lies, commit perjury, plot, scheme,, 
and kill to any extent for such a purpose; that 
there is no crime we should stick at if the cer- 
tainty, or even the probability of accomplishing 
such an end were in view. Now let me put it 
to our Protestant friends in this way. If the King 
of England were an absolute Monarch, the dic- 
tator of the laws to be enacted, and his own 
executive, there might be something of vital 
importance to our interests and to those of religion 
to excite in us an intense desire to have a Catholic 
King. Though even then the end could never, 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 65 

even remotely, justify the means suggested. But 
how do matters really stand? We have a Con- 
stitutional Monarch who is subject to the laws, 
and in practice bound to follow the advice of his 
Ministers. A Catholic King, under present cir- 
cumstances, would be a cause of weakness, of 
perpetual difficulty, and of untold anxiety. We 
are far better off as we are. Our dangers and 
grievances, our hopes and our happiness, lie in 

THE WORKING OF THE CONSTITUTION, not in the 

favour or power of any Sovereign. It is the 
Parliament, the House of Commons, that 
v^E MUST CONVERT, or at least strive to retain 
within the influence of Christianity. For the 
well-being of this country and the salvation of its 
people depend, above all other human things, 

UPON THE VIEW THAT THE HoUSE OF COMMONS 
CAN BE GOT TO TAKE OF ITS DUTY tO respect 

and obey the law of Christ. What we want is 
to get the House of Commons to maintain the 
Christian laws of marriage as the basis of society, 
and to secure to parents and their children a 
true and proper liberty in the matter of Christian 
education. And in this, remember well, THAT 
THE House of Commons depends not upon 
THE King, whatever his religion, but upon 
ourselves. The people of this country must work 
out their own salvation. And here let me point 
out to you, in passing, that the next Session of 
Parliament may settle for ever the position of 
Christianity in this country. Secondary and 



66 FREE OPINIONS 

middle-class education will be thrown into the 
melting-pot. In the process of the devolution of 
educational authority upon county councils, Chris- 
tianity will run the risk of losing rights which It 
seems to have almost secured under the working 
of the Education Department. The adoption of 
a single clause or principle will have far-reaching 
and most vital results. There will be another 
educational struggle. Struggles will be inevitable 
until the Christian cause which Is becoming more 
and more openly the cause of the majority has 
permanently triumphed." 

Here we have four distinct '' moves " on the 
plan of campaign. 

1. *' It is the Parliament, the House of Com- 

mons, that we must convert." 
This means, that wherever Influence can be 
brought to bear on the return of Roman Catholic 
members to the House, that Influence will not be 
lacking. 

2. " The next Session of Parliament may settle 

for ever the position of Christianity In 

this country." 
Not Christianity, for that is above all " set- 
tling," — save with its Founder — ^but that the next 
or other Sessions may open the way to a more 
complete Roman Catholic domination is what is 
here hoped for. 

3. " The adoption of a single clause or principle 

will have far-reaching and most vital 
results." 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 67 

Precisely; — so far-reaching and vital that Eng- 
land must be' on her guard against even a " single 
clause or principle " which endangers the liberty 
of the subject. 

4. " Struggles will be Inevitable until the 
Christian cause which is becoming more 
and more openly the cause of the majority 
has permanently triumphed." 

For Cardinal Vaughan there was only on? 
*' Christian " cause — viz., the Roman Catholic, 
and he who runs may read the meaning of the 
above phrase without much difficulty. 

Concerning the King's Declaration Oath, said 
the Cardinal; — 

^' It is not the King who is responsible for the 
drafting or the retention of this detestable Declara- 
tion. It is the Ministry, the Legislature, the Con- 
stitution that are responsible for its retention, and 
for forcing its acceptance upon the Sovereign. 
The gravamen, therefore, lies against the State, 
not against the person of the King." 

Quite true; and It Is therefore against the State 
that the Vatican powers must, and possibly may. 
In time be directed. 

" And," went on the Cardinal, " do not devout 
clergymen swear every day In good faith to teach 
the Thirty-nine Articles, and find every day that 
conscience and good faith compel them to break 
their engagement by submitting to the Catholic 
Church? When a man fully realizes that by a 
promise or an oath he has pledged himself to some- 



68 FREE OPINIONS 

thing that is unjust, immoral, untrue, the engage- 
ment ceases to bind." 

Ergo, the English Church, the particular 
" Faith " which our King undertakes to defend, 
is " unjust, immoral and untrue." 

And, " Could Englishmen see themselves as 
others see them, they would be more chary than 
they are of provoking hatred by such wanton 
contempt for the feelings of other nations." 

Well, Englishmen have every chance of seeing 
themselves as others see them, when they have to 
chronicle a " Christian " Cardinal's indictment 
accusing them of " wanton contempt for the feel- 
ings of other nations." To whom do other na- 
tions turn in want or distress but England? From 
whom do the famine and fever-stricken in all 
corners of the world obtain relief? England! 
Where is there any Roman Catholic country that 
has poured out such limitless charity and pity to 
all in sorrow as England? And why should the 
" conversion of England " be so valuable to the 
Roman Church? Merely because of England's 
incalculable wealth and power! 

Again, concerning the Declaration Oath, the 
Cardinal continued: — 

" Now should it ever happen that the King 
became convinced, by God's grace, of the 
truth of the doctrines that he abjured, of what 
value would be the Declaration? Absolutely 
none!" 

Of course not! — ^he would simply cease to be 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 69 

King, and would enjoy the complete liberty of the 
subject. 

'' By all means," went on his Eminence, warm- 
ing with his theme, " let the majority, If It please, 
stand by the law, which exists apart from the 
Declaration, declaring that to reign over England 
the Sovereign must be a Protestant. Retain this 
law and enforce It; but respect our creed, at least 
just so far as to Ignore It, and to leave us alone. 
This, surely. Is not a heavy demand to make upon 
the spirit of modern toleration.'* 

Then why did not the Cardinal and all his fol- 
lowers *' respect the creed " established In this 
country, — the religion of the State, — " just so far 
as to Ignore It," and to leave those who honour 
It "alone"? "This, surely. Is not a heavy de- 
mand to make upon the spirit of modern tolera- 
tion." It was not the Church of England which 
started any discussion on the Coronation Oath at 
the time of King Edward the Seventh's crowning, 
— the quarrel emanated entirely from the Roman 
Catholic side. And the Cardinal's speech was 
Intended to be more aggressive than pacifying. 

" But If," he continued, " after all, there must 
be a Declaration as a sop to certain fears and pas- 
sions, let there be one to the effect that the King 
Is a Protestant — and stop there. Should, however, 
a denunciation of the Catholic religion be added 
to a profession of Protestantism, the whole world 
will understand It; It will understand It as a pitiable 
confession of English fear and weakness, An4 



70 FREE OPINIONS 

as to ourselves; well, we shall take It as a com- 
plimentary acknowledgment by our Protestant 
fellow-countrymen of the importance and power 
of faith — that it can not only remove mountains, 
but is capable of moving even the fabric of the 
British Empire itself. But I should like to con- 
clude in another strain, and add to these observa- 
tions a resolution to this effect: — 

" That the Sovereign of this Empire ought to 
be raised high above the strife of all political and 
religious controversies, the more easily to draw to 
himself and to retain the unabated loyalty of all 
creeds and races within his Empire.'* 

With the latter part of the Cardinal's harangue 
every one of every creed and class will agree, but 
*' a pitiable confession of English fear and weak- 
ness " is a phrase that should never have been 
uttered by an Englishman, whether " broad " or 
narrow, cardinal or layman. *' English fear and 
weakness " has never yet been known in the world's 
history. And as for " moving the fabric of the 
British Empire," that is only done through the 
possible incompetence or demoralization of its 
own statesmen, — by shiftiness, treachery and cor- 
ruption in State affairs — and even at this utmost 
worst, though England might be bent, she would 
never be broken. 

All this, however, has nothing to do with the 
Christian faith as Christ Himself expounded It in 
His own commands. Quarrels and dissensions are 
as far from the teaching of the Divine Master as 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 71 

an earth's dusthole Is from the centre of the sun. 
Differences of dogma are not approved In His eyes. 
Whether candles shall or shall not be set on the 
altar, whether Incense shall or shall not be burnt; 
may be said to relegate to the " cleansing of the 
outside of the cup and platter," and are not a vital 
part of His intention — for He has nothing but 
condemnation for " forms " and " ceremonies." 
There Is something both strange and unnatural In 
the provocative spirit which Is at present being 
exercised by professing rulers of the Church of 
England against one another; and there Is a matter 
too for deep regret In the attitude of favour main- 
tained by certain political ministers, towards the 
practices of an almost theatrical ritualism in the 
form of English Christian services. The various 
appointments of High Churchmen to important 
bishoprics shows the tendency towards extravagant 
ritualism ; certainly the more simple and unaffected 
men of pure taste and dignity in Church ritual get 
little chance of encouragement; and that the path 
is being prepared for a second Cromwell is only 
too evident. It is lamentable indeed that any dis- 
cussions should arise between the different sects 
as to " forms and ceremonies," and those who 
excite fanatical hatreds by their petty quarrels 
over unimportant " shows " and observances, are 
criminally to blame for any evils that are likely 
to ensue. What Christ commands is " Love one 
another; " — what He desires is that all mankind 
should be friends and brothers in His Name. And 



72 FREE OPINIONS 

It Is from this point of view that I again ask the 
question of those who may have glanced through 
this paper — Do you believe, or do you not 
BELIEVE? Are you a Christian? Or a sec- 
tarian? The one Is not the other. 

For my own part I would desire to see all the 
Sects cease their long quarrel, — all " dogmas '* 
dropped — and all creeds amalgamated Into one 
great loving family under the name of Christ. I 
should like to see an end to all bigotry, whether 
of Protestantism against Romanism, or Romanism 
against Protestantism, — a conclusion to all differ- 
ences — and one Universal Church of simple Love 
and Thanksgiving, and obedience to Christ's own 
commands. " Temporal power " should be held 
as the poor thing which It Is, compared to Spiritual 
power, — for Spiritual power, according to the 
Founder of the Christian Faith, Is the transcend- 
ent force of Love — love to God and love to man, 
— " that perfect love which casteth out fear," and 
which, being " born of God, cannot rest in God 
above all created things." 

Thus It follows — That If we hate or envy or 
slander any person, we are not Christians. 

If we prefer outward forms of religious cere- 
monial to the every-day practice of a life lived as 
closely as possible In accordance with the com- 
mands laid down for us in the Gospel, v^E are 
NOT Christians. 

If we love ourselves more than our neighbours, 
WE are not Christians. 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 73 

If we care for money, position, and the ostenta- 
tion attending these things, more than truth, sim- 
plicity and plain dealing, we are not Chris- 
tians. 

These ordinary tests of our daily conduct are 
quite enough to enable us to decide whether we 
are or are not of the faith. If we are not, we 
should cease to " sham " that we are. It will be 
far better for all those with whom we are brought 
in contact. 

For, thank God, there exist thousands of 
very real "Christians" — (''by their fruits ye 
shall know them"), doing unostentatious good 
everywhere, rescuing the lost, aiding the poor, 
comforting the sick, and helping the world to 
grow happier and better. They may be called 
Jews, or Baptists, Papists, or Buddhists, — but I 
hold them all as " Christians " if they perform 
those good deeds and live those good lives which 
are acceptable to Christ, — while many church- 
going hypocrites called " Christians " whose social 
existence is a scandal, whose dissipations, gross 
immoralities and pernicious example of living are 
open dangers to the whole community, do not 
deserve even such a complimentary term as '* pa- 
gan " applied to them. For the pagans — aye, the 
earliest savages, believed in Something higher than 
themselves, — but these sort of people believe In 
nothing but the necessity of getting what they want 
at all costs, and are mere human cancers of evil, 
breeding infection and pestilence. And it is par- 



74 FREE OPINIONS 

ticularly incumbent on the clergy of all denomina- 
tions at the present juncture to sift Themselves 
as to their calling and election while sifting 
others, — to ask Themselves whether they may 
not be In a great measure to blame for much 
of the infamy which reeks from our great 
cities — for much of the apathy and Indifference 
to that bitter poverty, that neglected suffering 
which often gives birth to Anarchy, — for much 
of the open atheism which shames the upper 
classes of society. Let them live such lives as 
may liberate them from all fear or hesitation In 
speaking out boldly to the souls they have In 
charge — let them " preach the Gospel " as they 
were commanded, rather than expound human 
dogmas. 

Sympathy, tenderness, patience, love for all 
living creatures, rejection of everything that 
is mean and cruel, false and cowardly, — a broad 
mind, open to all the beautiful and gracious 
Influences of Nature — a spirit uplifted In thanks- 
giving to the loving God of all worlds, who Is 
brought close to us and made the friend of man 
in the Divine Personality of Christ, — this surely 
is Christianity, — a Faith which leaves no corner 
anywhere for the admission of hate, dissension or 
despair. Such is the Faith the Master taught, 
saying: 

^ ** I have not spoken of myself, but of the 
Father which sent me; He gave me a command- 
ment what I should say, and what I should speak. 

^John xii. 49. 



A QUESTION OF FAITH 75 

" And I know that His commandment is life 
everlastings— whatsoever I speak, therefore, even 
as the Father taught me, so I speak.'' 

So He speaks — but do we listen? And if we 
listen, — and believe, — why do we not obey? 



UNCHRISTIAN CLERICS 

IT IS generally supposed that an ordained 
minister of the Gospel is a Christian. What- 
ever the faults, negligences and shortcomings 
of other people in other conditions of life, it is 
tacitly expected that the professing disciples of 
Christ, the priests, teachers and exponents of holy 
and spiritual things, should be more or less holy 
and spiritual in themselves. They are at any rate 
accredited with honest effort to practise, as well 
as to preach, the divine ethics of their Divine 
Master. Their position in the social community 
Is one which, through old-time tradition, historical 
sentiment, and inborn national piety, is bound to 
command a certain respect from the laity. Any 
public disgrace befalling a clergyman is always 
accompanied by a strong public sense of shame, 
disappointment and regret. And when we meet 
(as most unhappily we often do), with men in 
" holy orders '* who, — instead of furnishing the 
noble and pure examples of life and character 
which we have a distinct right to look for in them, 
— degrade themselves and their high profession 
by conduct unworthy of the lowest untutored bar- 
barian, we are moved by amazement as well as 
sorrow to think that such wolves in sheep's cloth- 

76 



UNCHRISTIAN CLERICS 77 

ing should dare to masquerade as the sacredly 
ordained h-elpers and Instructors of the struggling 
human soul. 

During the past few years there have been many 
examples of men belonging to the hierarchy of the 
Church, who have wantonly and knowingly out- 
raged every canon of honour and virtue, and their 
sins appear all the blacker because of the white- 
ness of the faith they profess to serve. A criminal 
is twice a criminal when he adds hypocrisy to his 
crime. The clergyman of a parish, who has all 
doors thrown open to him, — who Invites and re- 
ceives the trust of his parishioners, — who Is set 
among them to guide, help and comfort them In 
the devious and difficult ways of life. Is a thousand 
times more to blame than any other man in a 
less responsible position, when he knowingly and 
deliberately consents to sin. Unless he Is able 
to govern his own passions, and eschew every base, 
mean and petty motive of action, he Is not fit to 
influence his fellow men, nor should he presume 
to Instruct them In matters which he makes it 
evident he does not himself understand. 

Quite recently a case was chronicled In the daily 
press of a clergyman who went to visit a dying 
woman at her own request. She wished to make 
a last confession to him, and so unburden her soul 
of its secret misery before she passed away, trust- 
ing In God's mercy for pardon and peace. The 
clergyman went accordingly, and heard what she 
had to say. When the unhappy creature was dead, 



78 FREE OPINIONS 

however, he refused her poor body the sacred 
rites of burial ! Now it surely may be asked what 
authority had he or any man calling himself a 
Christian minister to refuse the rites of burial 
even to the worst of sinners? Whatever the 
woman's faults might have been, vengeance 
wreaked on a corpse is both futile and barbarous. 
There is nothing in Christ's pure and noble teach- 
ing that can endorse so unholy a spirit of intoler- 
ance, — one too, which is calculated to give the 
bitterest pain to the living friends and relations 
of the so coarsely-insulted dead, and to breed in 
them a relentless hostility to the Church and its 
representatives. For the poorest erring human 
creature that ever turned over the pages of the 
New Testament, knows that such conduct is not 
Christ-like, inasmuch as Christ had nothing but 
the tenderest pity, pardon and peace for the worst 
sinner at the last moment. When death steps in 
to close all accounts, it behooves man to be more 
than merciful to his brother man. *' For if ye 
forgive not men their trespasses neither will your 
Father forgive you your trespasses." 

Still fresh in the minds of many must be the 
un-Christian conduct of the late Cardinal Vaughan 
in denying the rites of Christian burial to the 
venerable Dr. St. George Mivart. Dn St. George 
Mivart was a scientist whose theories did not 
agree with the tenets of the Roman Catholic 
Church, and as he belonged ostensibly to that form 
of faith, one may call him, if one so chooses, a bad 



UNCHRISTIAN CLERICS 79 

Catholic. But when It Is remembered that within 
quite recent days, so-called " Christian " priests 
in Servia have given their solemn benediction to 
the assassins of the late King and Queen of that 
country, it is somewhat difficult to understand or 
appreciate the kind of " religion " that blesses 
murderers and regicides, yet refuses burial to a 
modern scientist who, as far as his Intellectual 
powers allowed him, was working for the good 
and wider instruction of the human race. At the 
time of the " inhibition " and subsequent death of 
Dr. Mivart, I ventured to address an " Open 
Letter '' to Cardinal Vaughan on the subject. 
This Letter was published In March, 1900, and 
though no doubt the great " Prince of the 
Church " never deigned to read It, a large 
majority of the public did, and I have had much 
cause to rejoice that In the timorously silent 
acquiescence of the Christian world In a deed 
which shames the very name of Christ, I, at least, 
as one of the humblest among the followers of 
the Christian faith, did have sufficient courage to 
speak out openly against the wicked intolerance 
which made the Church itself seem mere " sound- 
ing brass or a tinkling cymbal," because lacking 
in that holy charity " which suffereth long and 
is kind." 

It was a barbarous act to " Inhibit " Dr. 
Mivart, — It was still more barbarous to refuse 
his body the sacred burial-rites, — and though the 
great Cardinal has now followed his victim to 



8o FREE OPINIONS 

that world where all the secrets of the soul are 
made manifest, his cruelty remains as a blot on his 
mortal career, — a black smirch, ugly to look upon 
in the chronicle of his various virtues and excel- 
lencies. No ordained minister of the Gospel has 
the right to be intolerant. He has not the slight- 
est excuse for arrogating to himself any other 
code of ethics or conduct than that which is set 
out plainly for him in the New Testament. Away 
from that he should not dare to go, if he truly 
believes what he elects to preach, — and if he does 
not believe, he should at once resign his office and 
not live on the proceeds of what in his own private 
conscience he considers untrue. 

Most of us have met with many a mean little 
curate, — many a sly, spiteful, scandal-mongering 
hypocritical parson, — in the daily round of our 
common lives and duties. Most of us know the 
** salad " cleric, — the gentleman who is a doubtful 
compound of oil and vinegar, with a good deal 
of tough green vegetable matter growing where 
the brain should be, — coarse weed of bigotry, 
prejudice, and rank obstinacy. None of us are 
entirely ignorant of the sedately amorous parson 
who is either looking out for a wife on his own 
account, or attempting a *' Christianly '' conversion 
of the wife of somebody else. In country towns 
we can scarcely fail to have come across the 
domineering vicar, — the small and petty tyrant, 
who whips the souls committed to his charge with 
rods steeped in his own particular pickle of arro- 



UNCHRISTIAN CLERICS 8i 

gance, austerity and coercion, playing the part of 
a little despot over terrorized Sunday-school chil- 
dren, and laying down the law for his parishioners 
by way of a *' new dispensation " wherein the 
Gospel has no part. One such petty martinet, 
well-known In a certain rural parish, plays regular 
*' ogre " to his choir boys. It Is always a case of 
" Fee, fi, fa, fo, fum, I smell the blood of a 
chorister,'' with him. Should one of these unfor- 
tunate minstrels chance to sneeze during service, 
this vicar straightway imposes a penny fine (some- 
times more) on the unlucky little wretch for yield- 
ing to an Irresistible nasal impulse! This kind of 
thing is, of course, ridiculous, and would merit 
nothing but laughter, were it not for the dislike, 
distrust and contempt engendered in the minds 
of the boys by the display of such a peevish spirit 
of trumpery oppression on the part of a man who 
Is placed In the position he holds to be an example 
of kindness, good temper, cheerfulness and 
amlablHty to all. True, the vicar in question is 
what may be called " liverish," and a small boy's 
sneeze may seem, to a mind perverted by bilious 
bodily secretions, like the collapse of a universe. 
But there are various ways of conquering even 
one's physical ills, — at least to the extent of 
sparing poor children the infliction of fines because 
they have noses which occasionally give them 
trouble. 

The begging cleric is of all sacerdotal figures 
the one most familiar to the general community. 



82 FREE OPINIONS 

One can seldom attend a church without hearing 
the mendicant's plea. If the collection taken were 
indeed for the poor, and one felt that it was really 
and truly going to help feed the starving and 
nourish the sick, how gladly most of us would 
contribute, to the very best of our ability! But 
sad experience teaches us that this is not so. 
There are " Funds " of other mettle than for the 
sick and poor, — " restoration " funds especially. 
For many years a famous church was in debt owing 
to " restorations," and Sunday after Sunday the 
vicar implored his congregation to lift " the 
burden " off his time-honoured walls — in vain ! 
At last one parishioner paid the amount required 
in full. 

The vicar acknowledged the cheque, — put a 
recording line in the " Parish Magazine," — 
and in doing so " regretted " that the donor did 
not " show a good example by attending public 
worship on Sundays," — after which, for more 
than a year he did not speak to that parishioner 
again! This is a fact. Neither he nor his wife 
during that time ever showed the slightest com- 
mon civility to the one individual who, out of all 
the parish, had " lifted the burden," concerning 
which so many pious exordiums had been preached. 
Till the debt was paid, the vicar showed every 
friendliness to the person in question — but after- 
wards — well ! — one can only suppose it was a case 
of *' Othello's occupation gone! " He could beg 
no more, — ^not for that particular object. But I 



UNCHRISTIAN CLERICS 83 

understand he has started fresh " restorations '* 
lately, so till he finds another trusting sheep in 
the way of a too sympathetic parishioner, he will 
be quite happy. 

There are some clerics who, to their sacred 
duties add " a little literary work." They are not 
literary men, — indeed very frequently they have 
no idea whatever of literature — they are what 
may be called " literary jobbers." Many clergy- 
men have been and are still, greatly distinguished 
in the literary calling — but I am not alluding to 
past or future Kingsleys. The men I mean are 
those who " do a bit of writing " — and help in 
compiling books of reference to which few ever 
refer. 

They are apt to bei the most pertinacious 
beggars of their class, — ^beggars, not for others' 
needs, but for their own. They want introduc- 
tions to *' useful " people — people of ** influence " 
— and they ask for letters to publishers, which 
they sometimes get. The publishers are not grate- 
ful. They are over-run, they say, with clergymen 
who want to write guide-books, books of travel, 
books of reference, books of reminiscence. One 
of these " reverend " individuals, pleading stress 
of poverty, was employed by a lady to do some 
copying work, for which, in a well-meant wish to 
satisfy the immediate needs of his wife and chil- 
dren, she paid him in advance the sum of Fifty 
Pounds. He sent her a signed receipt for the 
money with the fpUowIng gushing epistle : 



84 FREE OPINIONS 

" Dear , 

" Could I write as you do, I might find words 
to express in part some of my feelings of gratitude 
to you for all your kindness. My little daughter 
owes to you untold happiness, and I believe the 
goodness you ever show her will brighten her 
whole future life. My dear wife you help to bear 
her many burdens of health and loneliness as no 
other has even attempted to do; and my very 
mediocre self owes to you, a recognition, after 
many long struggles, I will not say of merit, for 
no one knows better than myself, my own short- 
comings, but of ' effort.' In fact, you come to us 
as Amenhotep sung of the sun : — 

Thou art very beautiful, brilliant and exalted above earth. 

Thy beams encompass all lands, which thou hast made. 

Thou art our sun. 

Thou bindest us with thy love. 

Thou art on high, but the day passes with thy going! 

Even so, your kindly heart has shone upon our 
life, and made us feel the springs of life within us. 
May the Great Master of all things for ever bless 
you and yours ! " 

After this poetical effusion,^ it is difficult to 
believe that this same " Christian " minister, in 
order to gratify the private jealousy, spite and 

*As some doubt has been expressed as to whether this inci- 
dent is a true one, the author wishes it to be known that she 
holds the original letter written and signed by the reverend 
lampooner in question. 



UNCHRISTIAN CLERICS 85 

malice of a few common persons whom he fancied 
might be useful to him on account of their " local '* 
influence, wrote and published a scurrilous lam- 
poon on the very friend who had tried to benefit 
him and his wife and family, and to whom he had 
expressed himself in the above terms of un- 
measured gratitude ! But such, nevertheless, was 
the case. Report says that he was handsomely 
paid for his trouble, which may perhaps serve as 
his excuse, — for in many cases as we know, money 
outweighs principle, even with a disciple of 
Christ. It did so in the case of Judas Iscariot, 
who, however, " went out and hanged himself " 
promptly. Perhaps the " very mediocre " cleric 
who owed to the woman he afterwards insulted, 
** a recognition after many long struggles," will 
do the same morally and socially in due course. 
For it would be as great a wrong to the Church 
to call such a man a " Christian " as it would be 
to canonize Judas. Even the untutored savage 
will not injure one with whom he has broken bread. 
And to bite the hand that has supplied a need, is 
scarcely the act of a mongrel cur, — let us hope 
it Is a sufficiently rare performance among mongrel 
clerics. 

Among other such " trifling " instances of the 
^^-Christianity of Christian ministers may be 
quoted a recent instance of a letter addressed to a 
country newspaper by a clergyman who complained 
of the small fees allowed him for the burial of 
paupers! " The game," so he expressed It, " was 



S6 FREE OPINIONS 

not worth the candle." Christian charity was no 
part of the business. Unless one can make a 
margin of profit, by committing paupers to the 
hope of a joyful resurrection, why do it at all? 
Such appeared to be the sum and substance of 
the reverend gentleman's argument. Another 
case in point is the following: A poor man of 
seventy-five years old, getting the impression that 
Death was too long in coming to fetch him, com- 
mitted suicide by hanging himself in a coal-shed. 
His widow, nearly as aged as he was, went totter- 
ing feebly along to the clergyman of the parish, 
to relate the disaster and seek for help. The first 
thing the good minister told her was, that her 
husband, by committing suicide, had gone to hell. 
He then relaxed his sternness somewhat, and 
kindly said that, considering her age, infirmity and 
trouble, she " might call at the rectory every after- 
noon for tea-leaves." This gracious invitation 
meant that the bereaved old creature could have, 
for her consolation, the refuse of the afternoon 
tea-pot after it had been well drained by this 
" Christian " gentleman, his wife and family! Of 
other help she got none, and life having become 
too hard for her to manage alone, despite the 
assistance of the clergyman's tea-leaves, she very 
soon, fortunately for herself, died of grief and 
starvation. " He that giveth to the poor " in this 
fashion, truly " lendeth to the Lord." 

" Christianity " and *' Christian " are beautiful 
words, emblematic of beautiful thoughts and 



UNCHRISTIAN CLERICS 87 

beautiful deeds. The men who profess to teach 
the value of those thoughts, the Influence of those 
deeds, should be capable in themselves of prac- 
tically illustrating what they mean by their faith, 
in their own lives and actions. Inspired by the 
purest Creed that was ever taught to mankind for 
its better hope and enlightenment, they should 
express in their attitude to the world, a confident 
and constant joy and belief in God's goodness, and 
should remember that if He, their divine Master 
" so loved us," equally should they. His ordained 
ministers, love us, ay, even the worst of us, in their 
turn. When, on the contrary, they do things for 
which the poorest peasant or dockyard labourer 
would have the right, and the honest right too, to 
despise them, — when they commit base actions for 
money or advancement, — when they are harsh, 
unyielding, discourteous and obstinate to the de- 
gree of even declining to aid a good cause or assist 
in some benefit to the nation at large, merely be- 
cause they have not been consulted as to ways and 
methods, they do not deserve to be called " Chris- 
tian " at all. They are of that class, unhappily 
Increasing In number, who cry out: '' Lord, Lord, 
have we not prophesied in Thy name? " to whom 
will be given the answer: "I never knew you; 
depart from Me, ye that work Iniquity I " Great 
and noble beyond all praise are true " Christian " 
ministers, — and thousands of them are to be 
found In all parts of the world, working silently 
and bravely for the rescue of bodies as well as 



88 FREE OPINIONS 

souls, giving practical as well as spiritual help and 
sympathy to their fellow-men in trouble. But just 
because their labours are so valuable, one resents 
all the more deeply the conduct of certain members 
of the clergy who cast dishonour upon their whole 
calling, — and just because the vocation of 
" priest" is so high, we intensely deplore every 
action «that tends to debase it. The un-Christian 
cleric belongs to no spiritual form of faith what- 
soever, and should not be allowed to pretend that 
he does. He has but one religion, — Self. And 
from the professor of Self, no man need ask 
either help or instruction. 



THE SOCIAL BLIGHT 

PEOPLE who live In the country know what 
is meant by a " blight "—a thing which is 
neither mist nor storm, neither cloud nor 
rain, — a fever of the atmosphere, without any 
freshening or cleansing force in its composition. 
Like a dull stretch of smoky fog, it hangs for 
hours and often for days over the face of the land- 
scape, poisoning the wholesome fruit and grain 
in the orchards and fields, and leaving trails of 
noxious insect pests behind it upon trees and 
flowers, withering their foliage, and blackening 
all buds of promise with a destroying canker to 
their very core. It is a suffocating, malodorous 
miasma, clinging to the air, for which there is no 
remedy but a strong, ay, even a tempestuous 
wind, — a wind which vigorously pierces through 
the humid vapour and disperses it, tearing it to 
shreds, and finally working up such a storm as 
shall drown it out of existence in torrents of puri- 
fying rain. Then all nature is relieved,— the air 
is cleared, — health and gladness re-assert their 
beneficent influences, and the land lies open to re- 
newed life and easy breathing once more. 

Even as '' blight " is known in things natural, 
so is it known and easily recognizable in things 
moral and social. It occurs periodically and with 

89 



90 FREE OPINIONS 

more or less regularity, between certain changing, 
and not always progressive phases or epochs of 
human civilization. It visited Sodom and Go- 
morrah, Tyre and SIdon; It loomed over Nineveh 
and Babylon, — and In our day It Is steadily spread- 
ing its pall over Europe and America. Its gloom 
is heavy and pronounced, — it would seem to be 
darkening into the true sable or death colour, for 
there is no light of faith to illumine it. It Is the 
outcome of the Infected breath of peoples who are 
deliberately setting God aside out of their count- 
ings, and living for Self and the Hour alone. So- 
called *' scientists," scraping at the crust-covering 
of the mine of knowledge, and learning of Its hid- 
den treasure about as much as might be measured 
with a finger-nail, have boldly asserted that there 
is no God, no Supreme Intelligent Force back of 
the universe, — no future life, — nothing but death 
and destruction for the aspiring, fighting, working 
human soul, — and that, therefore, having been 
created out of caprice, a " sport " of chance and 
the elements, and having nothing to exist for but 
to make chance and the elements as agreeable as 
possible during his brief conscious experience of 
them, the best thing for man to do Is to " eat, 
drink, and be merry all the days of his life,'* 
though even this, according to Solomon, is " also 
vanity." For of eating comes indigestion, of 
drink stupefaction, and of merriment satiety. 
Strange it Is that if there is no higher destiny for 
man than this world and its uses, he should always 



THE SOCIAL BLIGHT gi 

be thrown back upon himself dissatisfied! Give 
him milliohs of money, and when he has them, he 
cares little for what they can bring; grant him 
unlimited power and a few years suffice to weary 
him of its use. And stranger still it is to realize, 
that while those who do not admit God's exist- 
ence, strut forth like bantams on a dunghill, crow- 
ing their little opinions about the sun-rise, we are 
all held fast and guided, not only in our physical, 
but in our moral lives by immutable laws, invisible 
In their working, but sooner or later made openly 
manifest. Crime meets with punishment as surely 
as night follows day. If the retribution is not of 
man's making, — If human law, often so vicious 
and one-sided In itself, fails to give justice to the 
Innocent, then Something or Someone steps in to 
supply man's lack of truth and courage, and exe- 
cutes a judgment from which there Is no appeal. 
What It is or Who it Is, we may not presume to 
declare, — the Romans called It Jove or Jupiter; — 
we call It God, while denying, with precisely the 
same easy flippancy as the Romans did just before 
their downfall, that such a Force exists. It Is con- 
venient and satisfying to Mammonites and sen- 
sualists generally, to believe In nothing but them- 
selves, and the present day. It would be very 
unpleasant to them to have to contemplate with 
any certainty a future life where neither Money 
nor Sex prevail. And because It would be un- 
pleasant, they naturally do not admit Its possi- 
bility. Nevertheless, without belief in the Creator 



92 FREE OPINIONS 

and Ruler of all things, — without faith in the 
higher spiritual destiny of man as an immortal 
and individual soul, capable of progressing ever 
onwards to wider and grander spheres of action, 
life in this world appears but a poor and farcical 
futility. 

Yet it IS precisely the poor, farcical and futile 
view of life that is taken by thousands of Euro- 
pean and American people in our present period. 
Both press and pulpit reflect it ; it is openly shown 
In the decadence of the drama, of art, of litera- 
ture, of politics, and of social conduct. The 
*' blight " is over all. The blight of atheism, in- 
fidelity, callousness and indifference to honourable 
principle, — the blight of moral cowardice, self- 
indulgence, vanity and want of heart. Without 
mincing matters, it can be fairly stated that the 
aristocratic Jezebel is the fashionable woman of 
the hour, while the men vie with one another as 
to who shall best screen her from her amours with 
themselves. And so far as the sterner sex are per- 
sonally concerned, the moneyed man is the one 
most sought after, most tolerated, most appre- 
ciated and flattered in that swarm of drones called 
" society " where each buzzing insect tries to sting 
the other, or crawl over it in such wise as to be the 
first to steal whatever honey may be within reach. 
And worst of all things is the selfish apathy which 
pervades the majority of the well-to-do classes. 
As little sympathy is shown among them for the 
living, as regret for the dead. The misfortunes 



THE SOCIAL BLIGHT 93 

of friends are far more often made subject for ill- 
natured mockery than for compassion, — the deaths 
of parents and relations are accepted with a kind 
of dull pleasure, as making way for the inheri- 
tance of money or estates. No real delight is 
shown in the arts which foster peace, progress and 
wisdom; and equally little enthusiasm is stirred 
for such considerations of diplomacy or govern- 
ment which help to keep nations secure. A great 
man dies one day, and is forgotten the next, unless 
some clumsy and scandalous " biography " which 
rakes up all his faults and mistakes in life, and 
publishes private letters of the most intimate and 
sacred character, can be hawked to the front by 
certain literary vultures who get their living by 
tearing out the heart of a corpse. 

Say that a dire tragedy is enacted, — such as the 
assassination of the Empress Elizabeth of Austria, 
or the atrocious murder of the late King and 
Queen of Servia, — or, what is to many minds 
almost as bad, — the heartless and un-Christian 
conduct of Leopold, King of the Belgians, to his 
unhappy daughter Stephanie, — and though each 
event may be as painful and terrible as any that 
ever occupied the attention of the historian, they 
appear to excite no more human emotion than a 
few cold expressions of civil surprise or indiffer- 
ence. Feeling, — ^warm, honest, active, passionate 
feeling for any cause, is more difficult to rouse than 
the Sloth from its slumbers. It would, in truth, 
seem to be dead. The Church cannot move it. 



94 FREE OPINIONS 

The Drama fails to stir It. Patriotism, — National 
Honour, — have no power to lift it from the quag- 
mire of inertia. But let there be a sudden panic on 
the Stock Exchange, — let the Paris Bourse be 
shaken, — let Wall Street be ablaze with sinister 
rumour — and then hey and halloo for a reckless, de- 
grading, humiliating, miserable human stampede! 
Like infuriated maniacs men shriek and stamp and 
wrestle ; — with brains on fire, they forget that they 
were born to be reasoning creatures capable of 
self-control; — their much boasted-of " education " 
avails them nothing, — and they offer to the gods 
a spectacle of frantic fear and ignominy of which 
even an untaught savage might well be ashamed. 
But perhaps the most noxious sign of the blight 
in the social atmosphere is the openly increasing 
laxity of morals, and the frankly disgraceful dis- 
regard of the marriage tie. Herein the British 
aristocracy take the lead as the choicest examples 
of the age. Whatever Europe or America may 
show in the way of godless and dissolute living, 
we are unhappily forced to reahze that there are 
men in Great Britain, renowned for their historic 
names and exclusive positions, who are content to 
stand by, the tame witnesses of their own marital 
dishonour, accepting, with a cowardice too con- 
temptible for horsewhipping, other men's children 
as their own, all the time knowing them to be 
bastards. We have heard of a certain " noble- 
man " who, — to quote Holy Writ, — " neighed 
after " another man's wife to such an extent, that 



THE SOCIAL BLIGHT 95 

to stop the noise, the obliging husband accepted 
£60,000,' a trifling sum, which was duly handed 
over. Whether the gentleman who neighed, or 
the gentleman who paid, was the worst rascal, 
must be left to others to determine. It was all 
hushed up quite nicely,— and both parties are 
received '' in the best society," with even more 
attention than would be shown to them if they 
were clean and honest, instead of being soiled and 
disreputable. The portrait of the lady whose 
damaged virtue was plastered up for £60,000 is 
often seen in pictorials, with appended letterpress 
suitably describing her as a lily-white dove of 
sweet purity and peace. One blames the sinners 
in this sordid comedy less than the '' fashionable " 
folk who tolerate and- excuse their conduct. Sin- 
ners there are, and sinners there always will be,— 
modern Davids will always exist who seek after 
Bathsheba, and do their level best to get Uriah 
the Hittite comfortably out of the way, — but that 
they should be encouraged in their sins and com- 
mended for them, is quite another story. Apart 
from the pernicious influence they exercise on their 
own particular " set," the example of conduct they 
give to the nation at large, not only arouses 
national contempt, but in some cases, where cer- 
tain notable politicians are concerned, may breed 
national disaster. 

With looseness of morals naturally comes loose- 
ness of conversation. The conversation of many 
of the Upper Ten, in England at least, shows a 



96 FREE OPINIONS 

remarkable tendency towards repulsive subjects 
and objectionable details. It is becoming quite a 
common thing to hear men and women talking 
about their " Little Marys," a phrase which, 
though invented by Mr. J. M. Barrie, is not with- 
out considerable vulgarity and offence. Before 
the very excellent and brilliant Scottish novelist 
chose this title for a play dealing with the diges- 
tive apparatus, it would have done him no harm 
to pause and reflect that with a very large portion 
of the Christian world, namely the Roman Catho- 
lic, the name of Mary is held to be the most sacred 
of all names, second to none save that of the 
Divine Founder of the Faith. I am told on good 
authority that Americans, — especially the best of 
the American women, — have been amazed and 
more or less scandalized at the idea that any por- 
tion of the " cultured " British public should be 
found willing to attend a dramatic representation 
dealing with matters pertaining to the human 
stomach. I hope this report is true. My admira- 
tion for some American women is considerable, 
but it would go up several points higher if I were 
made quite sure that their objection to this form 
of theatrical enterprise was genuine, permanent, 
and unconquerable. I like Mr. Barrie very much, 
and his Scottish stories delight me as they delight 
everybody, but I want him to draw the line at the 
unbeautiful details of dyspepsia. People are 
already too fond of talking about the various 
diseases afflicting various parts of their bodies to 



THE SOCIAL BLIGHT 97 

need any spur in that way from the romantic 
drama. One of the most notorious women of the 
day has attained her doubtful celebrity partially 
by conversing about her own inner mechanism and 
other people's inner mechanisms in a style which is 
not only " free," but frankly disgusting. But, — 
" she is so amusing! " say the Smart Set, — " One 
cannot repeat her stories, of course — they go 
rather far! — but — but — you really ought to hear 
her tell them! " This kind of thing is on a par 
with certain lewd fiction lately advertised by cer- 
tain enterprising publishers who announce — " You 
must have this book! The booksellers will not 
show it on their bookstalls. They say you ought 
NOT to read it. GET IT!" 

All homage to the booksellers who draw the 
line at printed garbage ! One must needs admire 
and respect them for refusing to take percentages 
on the sale of corrupt matter. For business is 
always business, — and when business men see that 
the tendency of a certain portion of the reading 
public is towards prurient literature, they might, 
were they less honourable and conscientious than 
they are, avail themselves financially of this mor- 
bid and depraved taste. Especially as there are a 
large number of self -called " stylists " who can 
always be relied upon to praise the indecent in 
literature. They call it " strong," or " virile," 
and reck nothing of the fact that the " strong " 
stench of it may poison previously healthy minds, 
and corrupt otherwise innocent souls. Prurient 



98 FREE OPINIONS 

literature is always a never-failing accompaniment 
of social " blight." The fancy for it arises when 
wholesome literary fare has become too simple for 
the diseased and capricious mental appetite, and 
when the ideal conceptions of great imaginative 
minds, such as the romances of Scott and Dickens, 
are voted as " too long and boresome ! — there's 
really no time to read such stories nowadays ! " 
No, — there is no time! There's plenty of time 
to play Bridge though! 

Poetry — the greatest of the arts — Is neglected 
in our present period, because nobody will read 
It. Among the most highly " educated " persons, 
many can be met who prattle glibly about Shake- 
speare, but who neither know the names of his 
plays nor have read a line of his work. With 
the decline of Poesy comes as a matter of course 
the decline of Sculpture, Painting, Architecture 
and Music. For Poesy is the parent stem from 
which all these arts have sprung. The proofs of 
their decline are visible enough amongst us to-day. 
Neither Great Britain, nor Europe, nor America, 
can show a really great Poet. England's last great 
poet was Tennyson, — since his death we have had 
no other. Equally there is no great sculptor, no 
great painter, no great novelist, no great archi- 
tect, no great musician. I use the word " great," 
of course In Its largest sense, in the sense whereof 
we speak of Michael Angelo, Raffaelle, or Bee- 
thoven. There are plenty of clever '' sketchy " 
artists, — " impressionist " painters and fictionists, 



THE SOCIAL BLIGHT 99 

" rococo " sculptors, and melodious drawing-room 
song-writers,, — but we wait in vain for a new 
*' grand " opera, a nobly-inspired statue, a novel 
like " Guy Mannering," or a Cathedral, such as 
the devout old monks designed in the intervals 
between prayer and praise. The beautiful and 
poetic ideals that made such work possible are, 
If not quite dead, slowly dying, under the influence 
of the " blight " which infects the social atmos- 
phere, — the blight which is thick with Self and 
Sensuality, — which looms between man and his 
Maker, shutting out every hopeful glimpse of the 
sun of faith, whose life-giving rays invigorate the 
soul. And those who see it slowly darkening — 
those who have been and are students of history, 
and are thereby able to recognize its appearance, 
its meaning, and its mission, and who know the 
mischief wrought by the poison it exhales, will 
surely pray for a Storm ! 

" Come but the direst storm and stress that Fate 
Can bring upon us in its darkest hour, 
Then will the realm awake, however late, 
From the warm sloth in which we yawn and cower, 
And pass our sordid lives in greed, or mate 
With animal delights in luxury's bower; 
Then will the ancient virtues bloom anew, 
And love of country quench the love of gold; 
Then will the mocking spirits that imbue 
Our daily converse fade like misty cold 
When the clear sunshine permeates the blue; 
Men will be manly as in days of old. 
And scorn the base delights that sink them down 
Into the languid waters where they drown ! " 



L.(rfC. 



THE DEATH OF HOSPITALITY, 

THERE is an old song, a very old song, 
the refrain of which runs thus: " 'Twas 
merry In the hall, when the beards wagged 
all, We shall never see the like again, again! — 
We shall never see the like again ! " Whether 
there was anything particularly hilarious In the 
wagging of beards we may not feel able to deter- 
mine, but there is unquestionably a vague sense 
of something festive and social conveyed In the 
quaint lines. We feel, without knowing why, that 
It was. It must have been, " merry In the hall," at 
the distant period alluded to, — while at the pres- 
ent time we are daily and hourly made painfully 
aware that whether It be In hall, drawing-room 
or extensive " reception gallery," the merriment 
formerly so well sung and spoken of exists no 
longer. The Harp that once through Tara's 
Halls — no ! — I mean the Beards that once wagged 
In the Hall, wag no more. Honest laughter has 
given place to the nanny-goat sniggering bleat now 
common to polite society, and understood to be the 
elegantly trained and " cultured " expression of 
mirth. The warm hand-shake has. In a very great 
measure, degenerated Into the timorous offer of 
two or three clammy fingers extended dubiously, 



THE DEATH OF HOSPITALITY loi 

as with a fear of microbes. And Hospitality, 
large-hearted, smiling, gracious Hospitality, is 
dead and wrapped in its grave-clothes, waiting in 
stiff corpse-like state for its final burial. Public 
dinners, public functions of all kinds, — in England 
at any rate, — are merely so many funeral feasts 
in memory of the great defunct virtue. Its spirit 
has fled, — and there is no calling it back again. 
The art of entertaining is lost, — together with the 
art of conversation. And when our so-called 
" friends " are " at home," we are often more 
anxious to find reasons for declining rather than 
for accepting their invitations, simply because we 
know that there is no real " at home " in it, but 
merely an " out-of-home " arrangement, In which 
a mixed crowd of people are asked to stand and 
swelter in an uneasy crush on staircases and in 
drawing-rooms, pretending to listen to music 
which they can scarcely hear, and scrambling for 
tea which is generally too badly made to drink. 
Indeed, it may be doubted whether, of all the 
various ludicrous social observances in which our 
progressive day takes part, there is anything quite 
so sublimely idiotic as a smart ** At Home " In 
London during the height of the season. Nothing 
certainly presents men and women In such a sin- 
gularly unintelligent aspect. Their faces all wear 
more or less the same expression of forced amia- 
bility, — the same civil grin distorts their poor 
mouths — the same wondering and weary stare 
afilicts their tired straining eyeballs — and the same 



loa FREE OPINIONS 

automatic arm-movement and hand-jerk works 
every unit, as each approaches the hostess In the 
conventional manner enjoined by the usages of 
that " cultured " hypocrisy which covers a mul- 
titude of lies. Sheep, herding in a field and crop- 
ping the herbage in the comfortable unconscious- 
ness that they are eating merely to be eaten, are 
often stated to be the silliest of animals, — but 
whether they are sillier than the human beings 
who consent to be squashed together in stuffy 
rooms where they can scarcely move, under the 
sham impression that they are " at home " with a 
friend, is a matter open to question. Of course 
to some minds it may be, and no doubt is, ex- 
tremely edifying to learn by the society papers that 
Mrs. So-and-So, or Lord and Lady Thingummy 
will " entertain a great deal this season." 
People who have no idea what this kind of 
" entertaining '^ means, may have glittering 
visions thereof. They may picture to themselves 
scenes of brilliancy where ** a thousand hearts beat 
happily, and when. Music arose with its volup- 
tuous swell. Soft eyes looked love to eyes which 
spake again. And all went merry as a marriage- 
bell ! " Only these things do not happen. Any- 
thing but love is " looked " from soft eyes and 
hard eyes equally; — derision, contempt, indiffer- 
ence, dejection, malice, and (so far as champagne, 
Ices and general messy feeding are concerned) 
greed, light up these " windows of the soul " from 
time to time during the progress of such festlvitiesj; 



THE DEATH OF HOSPITALITY 103 

but love, never! The women are far too busy 
finding staniilng-room wherein to show themselves 
and their newest frocks off to advantage, to waste 
any moment In mere sentiment, and It Is a Chrls- 
tlanly beautiful sight to see how the dear things 
who wear the dressmaker's latest " creations " 
elbow and push and hustle and tread on the toes 
of their sisters who are less highly favoured than 
themselves In the matter of mere clothes. As for 
the men, — If they have, by dint of hard exertion, 
managed to get in at the '' crush,*' and near 
enough to the hostess to bow and touch her hand, 
their sole attention henceforward becomes con- 
centrated on the business of getting out again as 
rapidly as possible. For let It be said to the praise, 
honour and glory of the sterner sex, that taken in 
the rough majority, they detest the fashionable 
" At Home," with vigorous and honest Intensity, 
— and unless they are of that degenerate class who 
like to be seen hanging round some notoriously 
press-puffed "professional beauty," or some 
equally notoriously known leader of the Smart 
Set, they are seldom seen at such gatherings. They 
feel themselves to be Incongruous and out of 
place, — and so they are. " At Homes " are 
curious sort of social poultry-yards, where the 
hens have It all their own way, and do most dis- 
tinctly crow. 

But if " At Homes " are bad enough, the smart, 
the very smart dinner-party is perhaps a little 
worse in its entire lack of the true hospitality 



I04 FREE OPINIONS 

which, united to grace and tact and ready con- 
versation, should make every guest feel that his or 
her presence Is valuable and welcome. A small 
private dinner, at which the company are some six 
or eight persons at most. Is sometimes (though not 
by any means always) quite a pleasant affair, but 
a " big " dinner In the " big " sense of the word, 
is generally the most painful and dismal of func- 
tions, except to those for whom silent gorging and 
after repletion are the essence of all mental and 
physical joy. I remember — and of a truth It 
would be Impossible to forget — one of these din- 
ners which took place last season in a very 
" swagger " house — the house of a member of 
that old British nobility whose ancestors and titles 
always excite a gentle flow of saliva In the mouths 
of snobs. The tables — there were two, — ^were, to 
use the formal phrase, ** laid for forty covers " — 
that is to say that each table accommodated 
twenty guests. The loveliest flowers, the most 
priceless silver, the daintiest glass, adorned the 
festive boards, — everything that taste could sug- 
gest or wealth supply, had its share in the general 
effect of design and colour, — the host was at the 
head of one table, — the hostess at the other — 
and between-whiles a fine string band discoursed 
the sweetest music. But with it all there was no 
real hospitality. We might as well have been 
seated at some extra-luxurious table-d'hote in one 
of the *' Kur " houses of Austria or Germany, pay- 
ing so much per day for our entertainment. Any 



THE DEATH OF HOSPITALITY 105 

touch of warm and kindly feeling was altogether 
lacking; and to make matters worse, a heavy- 
demon brooded over the brave outward show of 
the feast, — a demon with sodden grey wings that 
refused to rise and soar, — the demon of a hopeless, 
irremediable Stupidity ! Out and alas ! — here was 
the core of the mischief! For sad as it is to lack 
Heart in the entertaining of our friends, it doubles 
the calamity to lack Brain as well ! Our host was 
stupid; — dull to a degree unimaginable by those 
who do not know what some lordly British aristo- 
crats can be at their own tables, — our hostess, a 
beautiful woman, was equally stupid, being en- 
tirely engrossed with herself and her own bodily 
charms, to the utter oblivion of the ease and well- 
being of her guests. What a meal it was ! How 
interminably it dragged its slow length along! 
What small hydraulic bursts of meaningless talk 
spurted out between the entrees and the game! 
— talk to be either checked by waiters proffering 
more food, or drowned in the musical growling of 
the band ! I believe one man hazarded a joke, — 
but It was not heard, — and I know that a witty old 
Irish peer told an anecdote which was promptly 
** quashed " by a dish of asparagus being thrust 
before him just as he was, in the richest brogue, 
arriving at the " point." But as nobody listened 
to him, it did not matter. Nobody does listen to 
anybody or anything nowadays at social functions. 
Everybody talks with insane, babbling eagerness, 
apparently Indifferent as to whether they are heard 



io6 FREE OPINIONS 

or not. Any amount of people ask questions and 
never think of waiting for the answers. Should 
any matters, small or great, require explanation, 
scarce a soul has the patience or courtesy to attend 
to such explanation or to follow it with any 
lucidity or comprehension. It is all hurry-skurry, 
helter-skelter, and bad, shockingly bad, manners. 
I am given to understand that Americans, and 
Americans alone, retain and cherish the old- 
fashioned grace of Hospitality, which is so 
rapidly becoming extinct in Great Britain. I 
would fain believe this, but of myself I do not 
know. I have had no experience of social 
America, save such as has been freely and cor- 
dially taught me by Americans in London. Some 
of these have indeed proved that they possess the 
art of entertaining friends with real friendly 
delight in the grace and charm and mutual help 
of social intercourse, — others again, by an inordi- 
nate display of wealth, and a feverish yearning 
for the Paragraph-Man (or Woman), have 
plainly shown that Hospitality is, with them, a far 
less concern than Notoriety. However this may 
be, no sane person will allow that it is " hospi- 
tality '* to ask a number of friends into your 
house and there keep them all standing because 
you have managed that there shall be no room to 
sit down, while strong, half-cold tea and stale con- 
fectionery are hastily dispensed among them. It 
is not " hospitality " to ask people to dinner, and 
never speak a word to them all the evening, because 



THE DEATH OF HOSPITALITY 107 

you, if a man, are engaged upon your own little 
" business affair," or, if a woman, are anxious not 
to lose hold of your special male flatterer. If 
friends are invited, they should surely be wel- 
comed in the manner friendly, and made to feel 
at home by the personal attention of both host and 
hostess. It is not " hospitality " to turn them 
loose in bewildered droves through grounds or 
gardens, to listen to a band which they have no 
doubt heard many times before, — or to pack them 
all into a stuffy room to be " entertained" by a 
professional musician whom they could hear to 
much more comfortable and independent advan- 
tage by paying for stalls at the legitimate concert 
hall. What do we really mean by Hospitality? 
Surely we mean friendship, kindness, personal 
interest, and warm-hearted openness of look and 
conduct, — and all of these are deplorably missing 
from the " smart " functions of up-to-date society 
in London, whatever the state of things may be 
concerning this antique virtue in New York and 
Boston. It would appear that the chief ingredients 
of Hospitality are manners, — for as Emerson 
says: "Manners are the happy way of doing 
things." This " happy way " is becoming very 
rare. Society, particularly the " Upper Ten " 
society, — is becoming, quite noticeably very rude. 
Some of the so-called " smartest " women are 
notoriously very vulgar. Honesty, simplicity, 
sympathy, and delicacy of feeling are, or seem to 
be, as much out of date as the dainty poems of 



io8 FREE OPINIONS 

Robert Herrick, and the love-sonnets of Sir Philip 
Sidney. Time goes on, say the iconoclasts — and 
we must go with it — we must, if our hurrying civ- 
ilization requires it, pass friends by with a cool 
nod, mock at the vices of the young, and sneer at 
the failings of the old; — we are all too busy to 
be courteous, — too much in a hurry grabbing gold 
to be kind, and much too occupied with ourselves 
to be thoughtful of others. So let us bury Hos- 
pitality decently once and for all, and talk no more 
about it ! It was a grand old Virtue ! — let us inter 
it with honour, — and cease to hold our funeral 
feasts and entertainments in its name. For, being 
dead, 'tis dead and done with, — and amid all our 
twentieth-century shams, let us at least drop, for 
shame, our base imitations of the great-souled 
splendid Grace that was meant to link our lives 
more sweetly together, to engender love, and to 
make home more home-like. For nowadays, few 
of us are simple and truthful enough in our lines 
of conduct even to understand Hospitality In its 
real meaning. " Between simple and noble per- 
sons,'* — says a great philosopher — " there is 
always a quick intelligence; they recognize at 
sight ; and meet on a better ground than the talents 
and skills they may chance to possess, namely, on 
sincerity and uprightness.'* Sincerity and upright- 
ness are the very fibre and life-blood of true Hos- 
pitality. But the chief canon of modern society is 
hypocrisy to begin with. Insincerity and lack of 
principle naturally follow, with their usual accom- 



THE DEATH OF HOSPITALITY 109 

paniment, moral cowardice, — and so men and 
women sneak and crawl, and flatter base persons 
for what they can get, and reject all chances of 
faithful friendship for mere ephemeral show. 
Under such conditions as these, what can good old 
Hospitality do but draw its last breath with a 
gentle sigh of expiring sorrow for the mistaken 
world which prefers a lie to a truth, and still to 
this day crucifies all its loving would-be redeemers 
on miserable Calvarys of desolation! No happi- 
ness does it gain thereby, but only increased bitter- 
ness and weariness, — and the fact that all our 
social customs have greatly changed since the old 
time when households were wisely ruled and very 
simply ordered, is no advantage to the general 
social community. We may, if we choose, — (and 
we very often do so choose,) fly from one desire 
to another and thence to satiety, and back again 
from satiety to desire, but we shall never, in such 
pursuit, find the peace engendered by simplicity of 
life, or the love and lasting joy inspired by that 
honourable confidence In one another's best and 
noblest attributes, which should frankly and 
openly set the seal on friendship, and make Hos- 
pitality a glad duty as well as a delight. " Old- 
fashioned " as it may be, no new fashion can ever 
replace It. 



THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH 

THERE are certain periods in the lives of 
nations when the balance of things in 
general would seem to be faultily adjusted; 
when one side of the scale almost breaks and falls 
to the ground through excess of weight, and the 
other tips crazily upward, well-nigh to overturn- 
ing, through an equally undue excess of lightness. 
The inequality can be traced with mathematical 
precision as occurring at regular intervals through- 
out the world's history. It is as though the clock 
of human affairs had been set correctly for a cer- 
tain limited time only, and was then foredoomed to 
fall out of gear in such a manner as to need cleans- 
ing and winding up afresh. A good many people, 
including some of the wisest of our few wise men, 
have openly expressed the opinion that we, of the 
proudest and greatest Empire at present under the 
sun, have almost reached that particularly fatal 
figure on the Eternal Dial, 

When all the wheels run down, 

and when the scales of Justice are becoming so 
dangerously worn out and uneven, as to suggest 
their possible incapability for holding social and 
political weights and measures much longer. One 
of the symptoms of this overstrained condition of 

no 



THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH in 

our latter-day civilization is precisely the same 
danger-signal which has in all ages accompanied 
national disaster — a pernicious influence, like that 
of the planet " Algol,'* which, when in the ascen- 
dant, is said to betoken mischief and ruin to all 
who see it rise on the horizon. Our evil Star, the 
evil star of all Empires, has long ago soared above 
the eastern edge; fully declared, it floods our 
heaven with such lurid brilliancy that we can 
scarce perceive any other luminary. And its 
name is Mammon. The present era in which we 
are permitted by Divine law to run through our 
brief existence and make our mark or miss it, as 
we choose, is principally distinguished by an insane 
worship of Wealth. Wealth in excess — wealth in 
chunks — wealth in great awkward, unbecoming 
dabs, is plastered, as it were, by the merest hap- 
hazard toss of fortune's dice, on the backs of un- 
cultured and illiterate persons, who, bowed down 
like asses beneath the golden burden, as asininely 
Ignorant of its highest uses. The making of mil- 
lions would seem to be like a malignant fever, 
which must run Its course, ending In either the 
death or the mental and physical wreckage of the 
patient. He who has much money seems always 
to find It Insufficient, and straightway proceeds to 
make more ; while he who has not only much, but 
superabundance of the dross, scatters it in every 
direction broadcast, wherever It can best serve as 
an aid to his own self-advertisement, vanity and 
ostentation. Once upon a time wealth could not 



112 FREE OPINIONS 

purchase an entrance Into society ; now It Is the 
only pass-key. Men of high repute for learning, 
bravery, and distinctive merit, are *' shunted " as 
it were off the line to make way for the motor- 
car traffic of plutocrats, who, by dint of " push," 
effrontery, and brazen impudence, manage to 
shout their income figures persistently In the ears 
of those whose high privilege it is to " give the 
lead " in social affairs. And to the shame of such 
exalted Individuals be it said, that they listen, with 
ears stretched wide, to the yell of the huckster In 
stocks and shares ; and setting aside every thought 
for the future of Great Britain and the highest 
honour of her sons and daughters, they sell their 
good word, their influence, and their favour easily, 
for so much cash down. Men and women who 
have the privilege of personally knowing, and fre- 
quently associating with the Royal Family, are 
known to accept payment for bringing such and 
such otherwise obscure persons under the Imme- 
diate notice of the King; and It Is a most unfor- 
tunate and regrettable fact that throughout the 
realm the word goes that no such obscure persons 
ever dine with their Sovereign without having paid 
the " middle man " for the privilege. It would 
be an easy matter for the present writer to name 
at least a dozen well-known society women, assum- 
ing to be " loyal," who make a very good thing 
out of their " loyalty " by accepting huge payments 
In exchange for their recommendation or Introduc- 
tion to Royal personages, and who add consider- 



THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH 113 

ably to their incomes by such means, bringing the 
names of the King and Queen down to their own 
sordid level of bargain and sale, with a reckless 
disregard of the damaging results of such con- 
temptible conduct. These are some of the very 
ladies who are most frequently favoured by notice 
at Court, and who occupy the position of being 
in the " swagger set." Whereas, the men and 
women who are faithful, who hold the honour of 
their King dearer than their own lives, who refuse 
to truckle to the spirit of money-worship, and who 
presume to denounce the sickening hypocrisy of 
modern society life and its shameless prostitution 
of high ideals, are " hounded " by those portions 
of the Press which are governed by Jew syndicates, 
and slandered by every dirty cad that makes his 
cheap living by putting his hand secretly in his 
neighbour's pocket. Never, In all the ages of the 
world, have truth-tellers been welcome; from Soc- 
rates to Christ the same persecution has followed 
every human being who has had enough of God In 
him or her to denounce shams; and the Christian 
religion Itself is founded on the crucifixion of 
Honesty by the priests of Hypocrisy. It Is a lesson 
that can hardly be too deeply dwelt upon at the 
present notable time of day, which seems for many 
students of national affairs the crucial point of a 
coming complete change In British history. 

On every side, look where we may, we see an 
almost brutal dominance of wealth. We see the 
.Yankee Trade-octopus, stretching out greedy ten- 



114 FREE OPINIONS 

tacles in every direction, striving to grasp British 
shipping, British Industries, and British Interests 
everywhere, in that devouring and deadly grip, 
which. If permitted to hold, would mean mischief 
and loss of prestige to our country, though, no 
doubt, it might create rejoicing in America. For 
America is by no means so fond of us as certain 
interested parties would have us suppose. She 
would dearly like to " patronise '* us, but she does 
not love us, though at present she hides her hand. 
In a case of struggle, she would not support the 
" old country '' for mere sentimental love of It. 
She would naturally serve only her own best Inter- 
ests. As a nation of bombast and swagger, she 
is a kind of " raree-show " in the world's progress; 
but her strength Is chiefly centred In dollars, and 
her influence on the social world teaches that " dol- 
lars are the only wear." English society has been 
sadly vulgarized by this American taint. Never- 
theless, it is, as it has always been, a fatal mistake 
for any nation to rely on the extent of its cash 
power alone. Without the real spirit which makes 
for greatness — without truth, without honour, 
without sincere patriotism and regard for the real 
well-being and honest government of the majority 
— any national system, whether monarchical or 
republican, must Inevitably decay and perish from 
the face of the earth. 

Unblemished honesty Is the best policy for 
statesmen ; but that such has been their rule of con- 
duct in these latter years may perhaps be open to 



THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH 115 

question. The late Mr. W. E. Lecky, whose 
broad-minded, Impartial views of life, commend 
themselves forcibly to every literary student, writ- 
ing of Cecil Rhodes, whose funeral service was 
celebrated with such almost royal pomp in St. 
Paul's Cathedral, gives us a sketch which should 
make the most casual " man in the street " pause 
and reflect as to whether those solemn public rites 
and tributary honours from both the King and 
Queen were not somewhat out of place on such an 
occasion. 

" What Mr. Rhodes did," wrote Mr. Lecky, in 
his strong, trenchant way, " has been very clearly 
established. When holding the highly confidential 
position of Prime Minister of the Cape Colony, 
and being at the same time a Privy Councillor 
of the Queen, he engaged' in a conspiracy for the 
overthrow of the Government of a neighbouring 
and friendly State. In order to carry out this 
design, he deceived the High Commissioner whose 
Prime Minister he was. He deceived his own 
colleagues in the Ministry. He collected under 
false pretences a force which was intended to co- 
operate with an insurrection in Johannesburg. 
Being a Director of the Chartered Company, he 
made use of that position without the knowledge 
of his colleagues to further the conspiracy. He 
took an active and secret part in smuggling great 
quantities of arms into the Transvaal, which were 
intended to be used in the rebellion ; and at a time 
when his organs in the Press were representing 



ii6 FREE OPINIONS 

Johannesburg as seething with spontaneous Indig- 
nation against an oppressive Government, he, with 
another millionaire, was secretly expending many 
thousands of pounds in that town in stimulating 
and subsidizing the rising. He was also directly 
connected with the shabbiest incident in the whole 
affair, the concoction of a letter from the Johannes- 
burg conspirators absurdly representing English 
women and children at Johannesburg as In danger 
of being shot down by the Boers, and urging the 
British to come at once and save them. It was a 
letter drawn up with the sanction of Mr. Rhodes 
many weeks before the raid, and before any dis- 
turbance had arisen; and kept in reserve to be 
dated and used In the last moment for the pur- 
pose of inducing the young soldiers in South 
Africa to join in the raid, and of subsequently justi- 
fying their conduct before the War Office, and also 
for the purpose of being published in the English 
Press at the same time as the first news of the raid 
in order to work upon English opinion, and per- 
suade the English people that the raid, though 
technically wrong, was morally justifiable. . . . No 
reasonable judge can question that in these transac- 
tions he was more blamable than those who were 
actually punished by the law for taking part in 
the raid, far more blamable than those young 
oflicers who were. In truth, the most severely pun- 
ished and who had been Induced to take part in It 
under false representation of the wishes of the 
Government at home, and a grossly false repre- 



THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH 117 

sentation of the state of things at Johannesburg. 
The failure of the raid, and his undoubted com- 
plicity with its design, obliged Mr. Rhodes to 
resign the post of Prime Minister, and his director- 
ship of the Chartered Company. . . . But what 
can be thought of the language of a Minister who 
volunteered to assure the House of Commons that 
in all the transactions I have described, Mr. 
Rhodes, though he had made * a gigantic mis- 
take,' a mistake perhaps as great as a statesman 
could make, had done nothing affecting his per- 
sonal honour? " 

What has been thought, and what is thought of 
the matter, has been largely suppressed by party 
politicians. The War Enquiry was conducted 
with secrecy; Cabinet Ministers held their Coun- 
cils, as it were, with locked doors. An eager desire 
to conceal the real state of affairs in the country, 
and an unfortunate tendency to " hush up " such 
matters as are the plain right of rate-payers to 
know, are the betraying signs of many of our 
statesmen's inward disquiet. Because, as many 
people instinctively feel, the trail of finance is likely 
to be openly traced to an unlawful, and in some 
case, dishonourable extent, over much recent po- 
litical work. Honour, however, is due to those 
Ministers who valiantly endeavour to screen 
greater names than their own behind their skilful 
diplomacy; and one naturally admires the zeal and 
courage with which they fight for this cause, even 
as M. Maurepas and M. Necker fought a similar 



ii8 FREE OPINIONS 

campaign long ago in the dark days of France, 
when, as Carlyle writes, It was " clearly a difficult 
point for Government, that of the dealing with 
the masses — if indeed it be not rather the sole 
point and problem of Government, and all other 
points were incidental crotchets, superficialities, and 
beatings of the wind ! For let Charter-chests, Use 
and Wont, Law, common and special, say what 
they will, the masses count to so many millions of 
units, made to all appearance by God, whose earth 
this is declared to be. Besides, the people are not 
without ferocity; they have sinews and Indigna- 
tion." 

At the immediate moment, the masses in our 
country are, rightly or wrongly, vaguely conscious 
of two things which they view as forms of injus- 
tice, namely, that they are asked to pay rates for 
an educational system which a large bulk of them 
do not approve, and that they are taxed for the 
expenses of a war, the conduct of which was dis- 
cussed *' secretly," as though its methods implied 
some dishonour to those concerned in it. More- 
over, they understand, with more or less bewilder- 
ment, that though the King is now *' Supreme 
Lord of the Transvaal " there is no chance what- 
ever for British subjects to make fortune there, the 
trades being swamped by Germans, and the mines 
controlled by Jews. Therefore, in their inability 
to follow the devious paths of reasoning by which 
politicians explain away what they term " ignorant 
and illiterate " conclusions, some of them begin to 



THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH 119 

think that the blood of their sons has been shed in 
hard battle, not so much for the glory and good 
of the many, as for the private greed of the few. 
They are no doubt wrong; but it will take some- 
thing more than " secret " enquiries to set them 
right. 

Meanwhile, the passing of the social pageant 
interests them more deeply than is apparent on 
the frothy surface of social things. Their con- 
tempt is aroused and kept sullenly alive by daily 
contemplation of the flagrant assertion of money- 
dominance over every other good. They hear of 
one Andrew Carnegie strewing Free Libraries over 
the surface of the country, as if these institutions 
were so many lollipops thrown out of a school- 
boy's satchel; they follow, the accounts of his 
doings with a mingling of wonder and derision, 
some of them up in Scotland openly and forcibly 
regretting the mischief done to the famed " grit 
and grip " of Scottish students, who are not now, 
as of yore, forced by hard necessity to work for 
their University education themselves, and win it, 
as it were, by the very skin of their teeth. Hard 
necessity is a fine task master, and turns out 
splendid scholars and useful men. But when edu- 
cational advantages are thrown headlong at 
aspiring students, and Universities are opened 
freely, as though they were a species of pauper- 
refuge, the delights of learning are apt to be pro- 
portionately cheapened and lessened. Lads with 
real ability naturally and invariably seek to do 



120 FREE OPINIONS 

something that shall prove their own capabilities 
of pluck and endurance; and a truly independent 
spirit not only chafes at, but absolutely resents, 
assistance. Thus it has come to pass that Mr. 
Carnegie's Free Libraries are looked upon by hosts 
of people as so many brick and mortar advertise- 
ments of his own great wealth and unfailing liber- 
ality. A labour leader of some repute among his 
own class, remarked the other day that " the Car- 
negie libraries were like ' So-and-So's Pills,' posted 
up everywhere lest the inventor's name should be 
forgotten ! " This was an unkind, and perhaps 
an ungrateful observation, but we have to recollect 
that a People, taken as a People, do not want to 
be grateful for anything. They want to work for 
all they get, and to feel that they have honestly 
deserved their earnings. It is only the drones 
of the hive that seek to be taken care of. The 
able citizen strenuously objects to be helped in ob- 
taining sustenance for either his soul or his body. 
What is necessary for him, that he will fight for, 
and, having won the battle, he enjoys the victory. 
There is no pleasure in conquering an enemy, if a 
policeman has helped you to knock him down. 

Thus, with many of the more independently- 
thinking class, millionaire Carnegie's money, 
pitched at the public, savours of " patronage " 
which they resent, and ostentation which they 
curtly call " swagger." Free Libraries are by no 
means essential to perfect happiness, while they 
may be called extremely detrimental to the pros- 



THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH i:ii 

perity of authors. A popular author would have 
good reason 'to rejoice if his works were excluded 
from Free Libraries, inasmuch as his sales would 
be twice, perhaps three times as large. If a Free 
Library takes a dozen copies of a book, that dozen 
copies have probably to serve for five or six hun- 
dred people, who get it in turn individually. But 
if the book could not possibly be obtained for 
gratuitous reading in this fashion, and could only 
be secured by purchase, then it follows that five or 
six hundred copies would be sold instead of twelve. 
This applies only to authors whose works the pub- 
lic clamour for, and insist on reading; with the 
more select '' unpopular " geniuses the plan, of 
course, would not meet with approval. In any 
case, a Free Library is neither to an author, nor 
to the reading public, an unmitigated boon. One 
has to wait for months sometimes for the book 
specially wanted; sometimes one's name is i,ooo 
on the list, though certain volumes known as 
*' heavy stock " can always be obtained immedi- 
ately on application, but are seldom applied for. 
Real book-lovers buy their books and keep them. 
Reading which is merely haphazard and casual is 
purely pernicious, and does far more harm than 
good. However, Carnegie, being the possessor of 
millions, probably does not know what else to do 
with the cash except in the way of Libraries. To 
burden a human biped with tons of gold, and then 
set him adrift to get rid of it as best he may, is one 
of the scurviest tricks of Fortune. Inasmuch as os- 



t22 FREE OPINIONS 

tentatlon is the trade mark of vulgarity, and a rich 
man cannot spend his money without at least ap- 
pearing ostentatious. The revival of the spinning 
and silk-weaving industries in England would be a 
far nobler and more beneficial help to the country 
and to the many thousands of people, than any 
number of Free Libraries, yet no millionaire comes 
forward to offer the needful assistance towards 
this deserving end. But perhaps a hundred 
looms set going, with their workers all prop- 
erly supported, would not be so prominently 
noticed in the general landscape as a hundred Free 
Libraries. 

Apart from the manner in which certain rich 
men spend their wealth, there is something in an 
overplus of riches which is distinctly ^' out of draw- 
ing," and lop-sided. It is a false note in the musi- 
cal scale. Just as a woman by wearing too great a 
number of jewels, vulgarizes whatever personal 
beauty she may possess by the flagrant exhibition 
of valuables and bad taste together, so does a man 
who has no other claim upon society than that of 
mere wealth, appear as a kind of monstrosity and 
deformity in the general equality and equilibrium 
of Nature. When such a man's career is daily 
seen to be nothing more than a constant pursuit 
of his own selfish ends, regardless of truth, honour, 
high principle, and consideration for his fellow- 
men, he becomes even more than a man-camel with 
a golden hump — he is an offence and a danger to 
the community. If, by mere dint of cash, he is 



THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH 123 

allowed to force his way everywhere — if no ruling 
sovereign an. the face of the earth has sufficient 
wisdom or strength of character to draw a line 
against the entrance into society and politics of 
Money, for mere Money's sake, then the close 
of our circle of civilisation is nearly reached, and 
the old story of Tyre and Sidon and Babylon will 
be re-told again for us with the same fatal con- 
clusion to which Volney, in his Ruins of Empires 
Impressively calls attention, in the following pas- 
sage: 

" Cupidity, the daughter and companion of 
Ignorance, has produced all the mischiefs that have 
desolated the globe. Ignorance and the love of 
accumulation, these are the two sources of all the 
plagues that Infest the life of man. They have 
inspired him with false ideas of his happiness, and 
prompted him to misconstrue and infringe the 
laws of nature, as they related to the connection 
between him and exterior objects. Through them 
his conduct has been injurious to his own existence, 
and he has thus violated the duty he owes to him- 
self; they have fortified his heart against com- 
passion, and his mind against the dictates of jus- 
tice, and he has thus violated the duty he owes to 
others. By ignorant and Inordinate desire, man 
has armed himself against man, family against 
family, tribe against tribe, and the earth is con- 
verted Into a bloody theatre of discord and rob- 
bery. They have sown the seeds of secret war in 
the bosom of every state, divided the citizens from 



124 FREE OPINIONS 

each other, and the same society is constituted of 
oppressors and oppressed, of masters and slaves. 
They have taught the heads of nations, with 
audacious insolence, to turn the arms of society 
against itself, and to build upon mercenary avidity 
the fabric of political despotism, or they have a 
more hypocritical and deep-laid project, that 
imposes, as the dictate of heaven, lying sanctions 
and a sacrilegious yoke, thus rendering avarice 
the source of credulity. In fine, they have cor- 
rupted every idea of good and evil, just and unjust, 
virtue and vice; they have misled nations in a 
labyrinth of calamity and mistake. Ignorance and 
the love of accumulation! These are the malev- 
olent beings that have laid waste the earth; these 
are the decrees of fate that have overturned 
empires; these are the celestial maledictions that 
have struck these walls, once so glorious, and con- 
verted the splendour of populous cities into a sad 
spectacle of ruins ! " 

Laughable, yet grievous is the childish conduct 
of many American plutocrats who are never tired 
of announcing in the daily Press that they are 
spending Three Thousand Pounds on roses for 
one afternoon's *' At Home," or Five Thou- 
sand Pounds on one single banquet! After this, 
why should we call the Roman Heliogabalus a 
sensualist and voluptuary? His orgies were less 
ostentatious than many social functions of to-day. 
It is not, we believe, recorded that he paid any 
" fashion-papers " (if there were any such in the 



THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH 125 

Roman Empire) to describe his " Feasts of 
Flowers," though a lively American lady, giving 
out her " social experiences " recently at an 
" Afternoon tea " said gaily: " I always send an 
account of my dinners, my dresses, and the dresses 

of my friends to ' The ' with a cheque. 

Otherwise, you know, I should never get myself 
or my parties mentioned at all ! " One is bound 
to entertain the gravest doubts as to the truth of 
her assertion, knowing, of course, that of all 
institutions in the world, the Press, in Great Brit- 
ain at any rate, Is the last to be swayed by financial 
considerations. One has never heard (in Eng- 
land at least) of any " Company " paying several 
thousand pounds to the Press for " floating it." 
Though such things may be done in America, they 
are never tolerated here.' But, the Press apart, 
which in its unblemished rectitude " shines like a 
good deed in a naughty world," most things in 
modern politics and society are swayed by money 
considerations, and the sudden acquisition of 
wealth does not in many cases improve the moral- 
ity of the person so favoured, or persuade him to 
discharge such debts as he may have incurred in 
his days of limited means. On the contrary, he 
frequently ignores these, and proceeds to incur 
fresh liabilities, as in the striking case of a lady 
" leader of society " at the present day, who, hav- 
ing owed large sums to certain harmless and con- 
fiding tradesmen for the past seven or eight years, 
ignores these debts or *' shunts them," and spends 



126 FREE OPINIONS 

SIX thousand pounds recklessly on the adornment 
of rooms for the entertainment of Royalty — which 
fact most notably proclaims her vulgarity, singu- 
larly allied to her social distinction. The payment 
of her debts first, and the entertainment of great 
personages afterwards, would seem to be a nobler 
and more becoming thing. 

But show and vanity, pride and " bounce," 
appear to have taken the place of such old-fash- 
ioned virtues as simplicity, sincerity, and that gen- 
uine hospitality which asserts nothing, but gives 
all. 

Kind hearts are more than coronets, 
And simple faith than Norman blood. 

In very few cases does immense wealth seem to 
go hand in hand with refinement, reserve and 
dignity. Millionaires are for the most part ill- 
mannered and illiterate, and singularly uninterest- 
ing in their conversation. A millionaire, occupying 
during some seasons one of the fine old Scottish 
Castles whose owners still take pride in the fact 
that its walls once sheltered " bonnie Prince 
Charlie," can find little to do with himself and his 
" house-party," but fill the grand old drawing- 
room with tobacco-smoke and whisky-fumes of an 
evening, and play " Bridge " for ruinous stakes on 
Sundays, of all days in the week. During other 
hours and days he goes out shooting, or drives a 
motor-car. Intellectually speaking, the man is less 
of a real personality than the great Newfound- 
land dog he owns. But measured by gold he is a 



THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH 127 

person of enormous importance — a human El 
Dorado. And his banking-account is the latch- 
key with which he opens the houses of the great 
and intrudes his coarse presence through the doors 
of royal palaces; whereas if by some capricious 
stroke of ill-luck he had not a penny left in the 
world, those same doors would be shut in his face 

with a bang. 

The vulgarity of wealth is daily and hourly so 
broadly evidenced and apparent, that one can well 
credit a strange rumour prevalent in certain highly 
exclusive circles, far removed from the " swagger 
set,'* to the effect that with one more turn of blind 
Fortune's wheel, the grace of Poverty will become 
a rare social distinction. The Poor Gentleman, it 
is said, will be eagerly sought after, and to be seen 
in his company will entitle one to respect. The 
man of money will stand outside the ring of this 
Society, which is in process of formation for the 
revival of the Art of Intelligent Conversation and 
the Cultivation of Good Manners. Ladies who 
dress with a becoming simplicity, and who are not 
liable to the accusation of walking about with 
clothes unpaid for, will be eligible for membership, 

and young men who are not ashamed to eniphat- 

ically decline playing cards on Sunday will be 
equally welcome in the select coterie. Limited 
means will be considered more of a recommenda- 
tion than a drawback, and visits will be inter- 
changed among the members on the lines of unaf- 
fected hospitality, offered with unassuming friend- 



128 FREE OPINIONS 

ship and sincerity. Kindness towards each other, 
punctilious attention to the smallest courtesies of 
life, unfailing chivalry towards women, and hon- 
our to men, will be the prevailing " rules " of the 
community, and every attempt at " show," either 
in manners or entertainment, will be rigorously 
forbidden and excluded. The aim of the Society 
will be to prove the truth of the adage that " Man- 
ners makyth the man," as opposed to the modern 
reading, " Money makyth the nobleman." Bear- 
ing in mind that the greatest reformers and 
teachers of the world were seldom destitute of 
the grace of Poverty, It will be deemed good and 
necessary to make a stand for this ancient and 
becoming Virtue, which as a learned writer says, 
" doth sit on a wise man more becomingly than 
royal robes on a king." Many who entertain this 
view are prepared to unite their forces in making 
well-born and well-bred Poverty the fashion. For 
in such a scheme, singular as It may appear, there 
is just a faint chance of putting up a barrier 
against boorish Plutocracy (which is a more 
unwieldy and offensive power than Democracy), 
and also of asserting the existence of grander 
national qualities than greed, avarice, and self- 
indulgence, which humours, if allowed to generate 
and grow in the minds of a people, result in the 
ravaging sickness of such a pestilence of evil as 
cannot be easily stayed or remedied. There has 
been enough, and too much of the Idolatry of 
Money bags — it is time the fever of such insanity 



THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH 129 

should abate and cool down. To conclude with 
another admirable quotation from Mr. Lecky: 
" Of colossal fortunes only a very small frac- 
tion can be truly said to minister to the per- 
sonal enjoyment of the owner. The dispro- 
portion in the world between pleasure and cost 
is indeed almost ludicrous. The two or three 
shillings that gave us our first Shakespeare would 
go but a small way towards providing one of 
the perhaps untasted dishes on the dessert table. 
The choicest masterpieces of the human mind — 
the works of human genius that through the long 
course of centuries have done most to ennoble, 
console, brighten, and direct the lives of men, 
might all be purchased — I do not say by the 
cost of a lady's necklace, but by that of one 
or two of the little stones of which it is com- 
posed. Compare the relish with which the tired 
pedestrian eats his bread and cheese with the ap- 
petites with which men sit down to some stately 
banquet; compare the level of spirits at the village 
dance with that of the great city ball whose lavish 
splendour fills the society papers with admiration; 
compare the charms of conversation in the college 
common room with the weary faces that may be 
often seen around the millionaire's dinner table, 
and we may gain a good lesson of the vanity of 
riches." 

And, we may add, of the vulgarity of those who 
advertise their wealth by ostentation, as well as 
of those who honour Purses more than Principles. 



AMERICAN WOMEN IN 
ENGLAND 

WHY Is the American woman so popular 
in English society? Why is her charm- 
ingly assertive personality acknowledged 
everywhere? Why Is she received by knights and 
earls and belted churls with such overpowering 
enthusiasm? Surely something subtle, elusive and 
mysterious, clings to her particular form, nature 
and identity, for more often than not, the stolid 
Britisher, while falling at her feet and metaphor- 
ically kissing the hem of her garment, wonders 
vaguely how it Is that she manages to make such 
a fool of him! To which, she might reply, on 
demand, that If he were not a fool already, she 
would not find her task so easy! For the Ameri- 
can woman Is, above all women In the world, 
clever — or let us say " brainy " to an almost 
incredible height of brainyness. She is " all 
there." She can take the measure of a man in 
about ten minutes and classify him as though he 
were a botanical specimen. She realizes all his 
limitations, his " notions," and his special and 
particular fads, — and she has the uncommonly 
good sense not to expect much of him. She would 
not " take any " on the lily-maid of Astolat, the 

130 



AMERICAN WOMEN IN ENGLAND 131 

fair Elaine, who spent her time in polishing the 
shield of Lancelot, and who finally died of love 
for that most Immoral but fascinating Knight of 
the Round Table. No, she wouldn't polish a 
shield, you bet ! She would make Lancelot polish 
it himself for all he was worth, and polish her own 
dear little boots and shoes for her into the bar- 
gain. That is one of her secrets — masterfulness 
— or, let us say queenllness, which sounds better. 
The Lord of creation can do nothing in the way 
of ordering her about, — because, as the Lady of 
creation she expects to order him about, — and she 
does! She expects to be worked for, worshipped 
and generally attended to, — and she gets her way. 
What she wants, she will have, — though " Com- 
panies " smash, and mighty Combines split into 
infinite nothingness; and more than any tamer of 
wild forest animals she makes all her male lions 
and bears dance at her bidding. 

Perhaps the chief note in the ever-ascending 
scale of her innumerable attractions Is her intense 
vitality. The mixed blood of many intelligent 
races courses through her delicate veins and gives 
a joyful lightness to the bounding of her heart and 
the swift grace of her step. She is full of energy 
as well as charm. If she sets out to enjoy herself, 
she enjoys herself thoroughly. She talks and 
laughs freely. She is not a mere well-dressed 
automaton like the greater majority of upper- 
class British dames. She Is under the impression, 
— ^^(a perfectly correct one) that tongues were 



132 FREE OPINIONS 

given to converse with, and that lips, especially 
pretty ones, were made to smile with. She is, taken 
at her best, eminently good-natured, and refresh- 
ingly free from the jaundiced spite against others 
of her own sex which savours the afternoon chitter- 
chatter of nine out of every ten English spinsters 
and matrons taken together in conclave. She 
would, on the whole, rather say a kind thing than 
a cruel one. Perhaps this is because she is herself 
always so triumphant in her social career, — because 
she is too certain of her own power to feel " the 
pangs of unrequited love," or to allow herself to 
be stung by the " green-eyed monster " jealousy. 
Her car is always rolling over roses, — there is 
always a British title going a-begging, — always 
some decayed or degenerate or semi-drunken peer, 
whose fortunes are on the verge of black ruin, 
ready and willing to devour, monster-like, the 
holocaust of an American virgin, provided bags 
of bullion are flung, with her, into his capacious 
maw. Though certainly one should look upon the 
frequent marriages of American heiresses with 
effete British nobles, as the carrying out of a wise 
and timely dispensation of Providence. New 
blood — fresh sap, is sorely needed to invigorate 
the grand old tree of the British aristocracy, which 
has of late been looking sadly as though dry rot 
were setting in, — as though the woodlice were 
at work in its heart, and the rats burrowing at 
its root. But, thanks to the importation of a few 
clean-minded, sweet-souled American women, some 



AMERICAN WOMEN IN ENGLAND 133 

of the most decayed places in the venerable stem 
have been purged and purified, — the sap has risen, 
and new boughs and buds of promise are sprout- 
ing. And it is full time that this should be. For 
we have had to look with shame and regret upon 
many of our English lords caught in gambling 
dens, — and shown lip in dishonourable bank- 
ruptcies; — some of them have disported them- 
selves upon the " variety " stage, clad in women's 
petticoats and singing comic songs for a fee, — 
others have " hired themselves out " as dummy 
figures of attraction at evening parties, accepting 
five guineas for each appearance, — and they have 
become painfully familiar objects in the Divorce 
Court, where the stories of their most unsavoury 
manners and customs, as detailed in the press, 
have offered singular " instruction and example " 
to those " lower " classes whom they are supposed 
to more or less influence. A return to the old motto 
of " noblesse oblige " would not be objectionable; 
a re-adopting of old ww-blemished scutcheons of 
honour would be appreciated, even by the so-called 
'' vulgar," — and a great noble who is at the same 
time a great man, would in this present day, be 
accepted by all classes with an universal feeling of 
grateful surprise and admiration. 

But, revenons a nos moutons, — the social popu^- 
larity of the American woman in English society. 
That she is popular is an admitted and incon- 
testable fact. She competes with the native Brit- 
ish female product at every turn, — in her dresSj 



134 FREE OPINIONS 

In her ways, in her irresistible vivacity, and above 
all in her Intelligence. When she knows things 
she lets people know that she knows things. She 
cannot sit with her hands before her In stodgy 
silence, allowing other folks to talk. That Is an 
English habit. No doubt the English girl or 
woman knows quite as much as her American sis- 
ter, but she has an unhappy knack of assuming to 
be a fool. She says little, and that little not to 
much purpose, — she looks less, — It Is dimly under- 
stood that she plays hockey, tennis and golf, and 
has large feet. She Is an athletic Enigma. I write 
this, of course, solely concerning those British 
women, young, middle-aged and elderly, who make 
" sport " and out-door exercise the chief aim and 
end of existence. But I yield to none In my love 
and admiration for the real, genuine, un-modern- 
Ised English maiden, at her gentlest and best, — 
she Is the rosebud of the world. And I tender 
devout reverence and affection to the ww-fashion- 
able, single-hearted, dear, loving and ever-beloved 
English wife and mother — she Is the rose In all 
Its full-blown glory. Unfortunately, however, 
these English rosebuds and roses are seldom met 
with In the sweltering, scrambling crowd called 
*' society." They dwell In quiet country-places 
where the lovely Influences of their modest and 
retiring lives are felt but never seen. Society likes 
to be seen rather than felt. There Is all the dif- 
ference. And in that particular section of It whose 
aim is seeing to be seen, and seen to be seeing, the 



AMERICAN WOMEN IN ENGLAND 135 

American woman Is as an oasis In the desert. She 
also wants ' to be seen, — but she expresses that 
desire so naively, and often so bewltchlngly, that 
it is a satisfaction to every one to grant her 
request. She also would see, — and her eyes are 
so bright and roving and restless, that Mother 
Britannia is perforce compelled to smile indul- 
gently, and to open all her social picture-books for 
the pleasure of the spoilt child of eternal May- 
flower pedigree. It has to be said and frankly 
admitted too, that much of the popularity attend- 
ing an American girl when she first comes over to 
London for a " season " is due to an idea which 
the stolid Britisher gets into his head, namely, 
that she has, she must have. Money. The Ameri- 
can girl and Money are twins, according to the 
stolid Britisher's belief. And when the stolid Brit- 
isher fixes something — anything — into the pas- 
sively-resisting matter composing his brain, it 
would take Leviathan, with, not one, but several 
hooks, to ?mfix it. And thus it often happens that 
the sight of a charmingly dressed, graceful, gen- 
erally " smart " American girl attracts the stolid 
Britisher in the first place because he says to him- 
self — " Money! " He knows all the incomes of 
all the best families in his own country, — and none" 
of them are big enough to suit him. But the 
American girl arrives as more or less of a financial 
mystery. She may have thousands, — she may have 
millions, — he can never be quite sure. And he 
does all he can to ingratiate himself with her and 



136 FREE OPINIONS 

give her a good time " on spec." to begin with, 
while he makes cautious and diplomatic enquiries. 
If his hopes rest on a firm basis, his attentions are 
redoubled — if, on the contrary, they are built on 
shifting sand, he gradually diminishes his ardour 
and like a " wilting flower " fades and ^' fizzles " 
away. 

I am here reminded of a certain Earl, renowned 
in the political and social world, who, when he was 
a young man, went over on a visit to America and 
there fell, or feigned to fall, deeply in love with 
a very sweet, very beautiful, very gentle and lov- 
able American girl. In a brief while he became 
engaged to her. The engagement was made public 
— the wedding day was almost fixed. The girl's 
father was extremely wealthy, and she was the only 
child and sole heiress. But an unfortunate failure, 
— a gigantic collapse in the money market, made 
havoc of the father's fortunes, and as soon as his 
ruin was declared beyond a doubt, the noble Earl, 
without much hesitation or ado, broke off his 
engagement, and rapidly decamped from the States 
back to his own country, where, as all the world 
knows, he did very well for himself. Strange to 
say, however, the girl whom he had thus brutally 
forsaken for no fault of her own, had loved him 
with all the romantic and trusting tenderness of 
first love, and the heartless blow Inflicted upon her 
by his noble and honourable lordship was one from 
which she never recovered. The Noble and Hon- 
ourable has, I repeat, done very well for himself, 



AMERICAN WOMEN IN ENGLAND 137 

though it is rumoured that he sleeps badly, and 
that he has'occaslonally been heard muttering after 
the fashion of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, — 
" Oh God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and 
count myself a king of infinite space were it not 
that I have bad dreams ! " 

Marriage, however, is by no means the only, or 
even the chief resource in life of the American 
woman. She evidently looks with a certain favour 
on the holy estate of matrimony and is quite willing 
to become an excellent wife and mother if the lines 
of her destiny run that way, but if they should 
happen to branch out in another direction, she 
wastes no time in useless pining. She is too vital, 
too capable, too intelligent and energetic alto- 
gether to play the role of an interesting martyr to 
male neglect. She will teach, or she will lecture, 
— she will sing, or she will act, — she will take her 
degrees in medicine and surgery, — she will practise 
for the Bar, — she will write books, and the days 
are fast approaching when she will become a high 
priestess of the Church, and will preach to the lost 
sheep of Israel as well as to the equally lost ones 
of New York or Chicago ; — she will be a " beauty 
doctor," a *' physical culture " woman, a " me- 
dium," a stock-broker, a palmist, a florist, a house- 
decorator, a dealer in lace and old curiosities, — 
ay! she will even become a tram-car conductor if 
necessity compels and the situation is open to her, 
— and she will manage a cattle ranch as easily as 
a household, should opportunity arise. Marriage 



138 FREE OPINIONS 

is but one link in the long chain of her general 
efficiency, and like Cleopatra, " age cannot wither 
her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety." A 
curious fact and one worth noting is that we sel- 
dom or never hear Americans use the ill-bred 
expression *' old maid " when alluding to such of 
their feminine relatives or friends who may hap- 
pen to remain unmarried. They know too well 
that these confirmed and settled spinsters are as 
capable and as well to the front in the rush of 
life as the wedded wives, if not more so, — they 
know that among these unmarried feminine forces 
they have to reckon with some of the cleverest 
heads of the day, to whom no opprobrious term 
of contempt dare be applied, — women who are 
editors and proprietors of great newspapers, — 
women who manage famous schools and colleges, 
— women who, being left with large fortunes, 
dispense the same in magnificently organized but 
wwadvertised charities, — women who do so com- 
mand by their unassisted influence certain social 
movements and events, that if indeed they were 
to marry, something like confusion and catastrophe 
might ensue among the circles they control by the 
introduction of a new and possibly undesirable 
element. *' Old maid," may apply to the unfor- 
tunate female who has passed all the days of her 
youth in talking about men and in failing to catch 
so much as one of the wandering tribe, and who, 
on arriving at forty years, meekly retires to the 
chimney corner with shawl over her shoulders and 



AMERICAN WOMEN IN ENGLAND 139 

some useful knitting, — but it carries neither mean- 
ing nor application to the brisk, brilliant Ameri- 
can spinster who at fifty keeps her trim svelte 
figure, dresses well, goes here, there and every- 
where, and sheds her beaming smile with good- 
natured tolerance, and perchance something of 
gratitude as well, on the men she has escaped 
from. Life does not run only in one channel for 
the American Woman. She does not " make 
tracks " solely from the cradle to the altar, from 
the altar to the grave. She realizes that there is 
more fun to be got out of being born than just 
this little old measure meted out to her by the 
barbaric males of earliest barbaric periods, when 
women were yoked to the plough with cattle. 
And it is the innate consciousness of her own power 
and intelligent ability that gives her the dominat- 
ing charm, — the magnetic spell under which the 
stolid Britisher falls more or less stricken, stupefied 
and inert. He is never a great talker ; she is. Her 
flow of conversation bewilders him. She knows so 
much too — she chatters of Shakespeare, Byron, 
Shelley, Keats — and he thinks he has heard of 
these people somewhere before. He listens 
dumbly. Sometimes he scratches his head, — occa- 
sionally he feels his moustache, if he has one. 
When she laughs, he smiles slowly and dubiously. 
He hopes she is not laughing at him. He feels — 
he feels — dontcherknow — that she is " ripping." 
He couldn't tell you what he means by " ripping " 
to save his Hfe. But painfully accustomed as he is 



I40 FREE OPINIONS 

to the dull and listless conversation of the British 
materfamilias, and to the half-hoydenish conduct 
of the British tom-boy girl who will insist on play- 
ing golf and hockey with him in order not to lose 
him out of her sight, he is altogether refreshed 
and relieved when the American Woman dawns 
upon his cloudy horizon, and instead of waiting 
upon him, commands him to wait upon her with 
one dazzling look of her bright, audacious eye. 
The American Woman is not such a fool as to go 
play hockey with him at all times and in all 
weathers, thereby allowing him to take the 
unchecked measure of her ankles. She Is too 
clever to do anything that might possibly show 
her In an unlovely or ungraceful light. She takes 
care to keep her hands soft and small and white, 
that they may be duly caressable,— and makes 
the best and prettiest of herself on all and every 
occasion. And that she has succeeded In taking 
English society by storm is no matter of surprise. 
English society, unmixed with any foreign ele- 
ment, is frequently said to be the dullest In the 
world. It is an entertainment where no one Is 
entertained. A civil apathy wraps each man and 
woman In Its fibrous husk, and sets them sepa- 
rately apart behind barricades of the most idiotic 
conventionality. The American Woman Is the 
only being that can break down these barricades 
and tear the husk to shreds. No wonder she Is 
popular! The secret of her success is in her own 
personal charm and vivacious intelligence, — in her 



AMERICAN WOMEN IN ENGLAND 141 

light scorn of stupid ceremonies, — in the 
frank geniality of her disposition (when she can 
manage to keep it unspoilt by contact with the 
reserved hypocrisy of the " Smart Set,") and the 
delightful spontaneity of her thoughts which find 
such ready expression in equally spontaneous 
speech. Altogether the American Woman is a 
valuable importation into Great Britain. She is 
an incarnation of the Present, and an embryo of 
the Future. She is a gifted daughter of the Brit- 
ish race, holding within her bright, vital, ambi- 
tious identity many of the greater possibilities of 
Britain. And to the question " Why is she popu- 
lar? " the answer Is simple — " Because she 
deserves to bel. '* 



THE AMERICAN BOUNDER 

EVERYTHING In America Is colossal, 
stupendous and pre-eminent, — It follows, 
therefore, that the American " bounder '^ Is 
the most colossal, stupendous and pre-eminent 
bounder In existence. None of his tribe can match 
him In " brass," — none of his European forbears 
or connections can equal him In brag. He Is an 
inflated bladder of man, swollen out well-nigh to 
bursting with the wind of the Yankee Doodle 
Eagle's wing. His aim In life appears to be to 
disgrace his country by his manners, his morals 
and his conversation. He arrives In Europe with 
the air of laying Europe under a personal debt 
of obligation to Providence for having kindly per- 
mitted him to be born. As befits a son of the god- 
dess Liberty, he sets his proud foot on the " worn 
out " soil of the Old World and prances there, 
even as the " wild ass " mentioned In Holy Writ. 
As a citizen of the greatest Republic over which 
any starred or striped flag ever flew, he extends his 
gracious patronage to tottering monarchies, and 
allows It to be understood that he tolerates with 
an amused compassion that poor, drivelling, aged 
and senile institution known as the Aristocracy. 
He alludes to " my friend the Duke," casually, as 

142 



THE AMERICAN BOUNDER 143 

one might speak of a blind beggar. He throws 
in a remark'qulte unexpectedly at times concerning 
'* Betty — you've heard of her surely? Countess 
Betty — the Countess of Hockyfield — oh yes! — 
you English snobs rather ' kotow ' to her, but / 
call her Betty ! — she likes it ! " He may frequently 
be found in residence on the fourth floor back of 
a swagger hotel, occupying a *' bed-sitting room '* 
littered with guide books, " yellow " journalism, 
and dubious French novels, with an impressionist 
sketch of the newest Paris " danseuse " in her 
most suggestive want of attire set conspicuously 
forward for inspection. If chance visitors happen 
to notice flowers on his table, he at once seethes 
into a simmering scum of self-adulation. 
" Charming, are they not ! '* he says — ■'* So sweet I 
So dear of the Duchess to send them ! — she knows 
how fond I am of Malmalsons! — did you notice 
that Malmaison? — the Duchess gathered It for 
me herself — it is from one of the Sandrlngham 
stock. Of course you know the carnation houses 
at Sandrlngham? Alex, delights in Malmalsons I " 
And when guileless strangers gasp and blink as 
they realize that it is England's gracious Queen- 
Consort who is being spoken of as " Alex." in the 
company of the soiled literature and the portrait 
of the Paris " danseuse " the Bounder is delighted. 
He feels he has made a point. He chortles cheer- 
fully on — " What a rotten old country this is 
after all, eh? Just crawling alive with snobs 1 
Everyone's on their knees to a title, and the sight 



144 FREE OPINIONS 

of a lord seems to give the average Britisher a 
fit. Now look at me! I don't care a cent about 
your dukes and earls. Why should I ? Fm always 
with 'em — fact Is, they can't bear to have me out 
of their sight! Lady Belinda Boomall — second 
daughter of the Duke of Borrowdom, — she's just 
mad on me ! She thinks I've got money, and I let 
her! It's real fun! And as to the Marchioness 
Golfhouse — she's up to some games / tell you! 
She knows a thing or two ! My word ! " Here he 
gives vent to a sound suggestive of something 
between a sneeze and a snigger which is his own 
particular way of rendering the laugh satirical. 
** I always get on with your blue-blooded girls ! " 
— he proceeds; "I guess they're pretty tired of 
their own men hulking round! They take to an 
Amwrrican as ducks take to water. See all those 
cards?" — pointing in a casual way to half a 
dozen or so of pasteboard slips littered on the 
mantelshelf, among which the discerning observer 
might certainly see one or two tradesmen's adver- 
tisements — " They just shower 'em on me ! I've 
got an ' at home ' to-night and a ball afterwards 
— to-morrow I breakfast at Marlborough House; 
— then lunch with Lady Adelaide Sparkler, — she 
drives me In the Park afterwards — and In the 
evening I dine at St. James' Palace and go to the 
Opera with the Rothchilds. It's always like that 
with me ! I never have a moment to myself. All 
these people want me. Lady Adelaide Sparkler 
declares she cannot possibly do without me! I 



THE AMERICAN BOUNDER 145 

ought to have been at Stafford House this after- 
noon — great show on there — but I can't be both- 
ered! — the Duchess is just too trying for words 
sometimes! Of course it's all a question of con- 
nection; — they know who I am and all about my 
ancestors, and that makes 'em so anxious to have 
me. You know who my ancestors were? " 

Now when the American Bounder puts this 
question, he ought to receive a blunt answer. 
Perhaps if Britishers were as rude as they are 
sometimes reported to be, one of them would give 
such an answer straight. He would say '* No, 
I do not; but I expect you sprang from a convict 
root of humanity thrown out as bad rubbish from 
an over-populated prison and cast by chance into 
American soil beside an equally rank native Indian 
weed — and that in your present bad form and gen- 
eral condition, you are the expressive result of 
that disastrous combination." But, as a rule, even 
the most truculent Britisher's natural pluck is so 
paralysed by the American Bounder's amazing 
capacity for lying, that in nine cases out of ten, 
he merely murmurs an inarticulate negative. 
Whereat the Bounder at once proceeds to enlighten 
him — " I am the direct descendant of the Scroobys 
of Scrooby in Yorkshire," — he resumes — " My 
name's not Scrooby — no! — ^but that has nothing 
to do with it. The families got mixed. Scrooby 
of Scrooby went over to Holland in 1607 and 
joined the Pilgrim Fathers. He was quite a boy, 
but Elder Brewster took care of him! He held 



146 FREE OPINIONS 

the Bible when Brewster first fell upon his knees 
and thanked God. So you see I really come from 
Yorkshire. Real old Yorkshire ham ' cured ' into 
an Amwrrican ! ' 

After this, there Is nothing more to be said. 
Questions of course might be asked as to how the 
*' Yorkshire ham " not being " Scrooby " now, 
ever started from " Scrooby " in the past, only it 
is not worth while. It never is worth while to 
try and certify an American Bounder's claim to 
being sprung from a dead and gone family of Eng- 
lish gentlemen. Regard for the dead and gone 
English gentlemen should save them from this 
affront to their honourable dust. 

Perhaps the most amazing thing about the 
American Bounder after his free and easy famil- 
iarities with ''Bertie" (the King) "Alex.'' (the 
Queen) and " Georgie and May " (the Prince and 
Princess of Wales) is his overweening, self-satis- 
fied, complacent and arrogant ignorance. The 
most blatant little local tradesman who, through 
well-meaning Parliamentary short-sightedness in 
educational schemes, becomes a " governor " of a 
Technical School in the provinces, is never so 
blatantly ignorant as he. He talks of everything 
and knows nothing. He assumes to have the last 
word in science, art and literature. He will tell 
you he is " great chums " with Marconi and Edi- 
son, and that these famous discoverers and inven- 
tors always lay their heads on his bosom and tell 
him their dearest confidences. He knows just what 



THE AMERICAN BOUNDER 147 

is going to be done by everybody with everything. 
He is friends with the Drama too. Beerbohm 
Tree rings him up on the telephone at all manner 
of strange hours, thirsting for his advice on cer- 
tain '' scenes " and " effects." He is — to use his 
own words — " doing a great thing " for Tree. 
Sarah Bernhardt is his very dearest of dear ones! 
She has fallen into his arms coming off the stage 
at the side wings, exhausted, and exclaiming — 
" Toi, mon cher! Enfin! Maintenant, je respire! " 
Madame Rejane is always at home to him. In 
fact all Paris hails him with a joy too deep for 
tears. He would not be a true *' Am^^rncan " if 
he did not love Paris, and if Paris did not love 
him. 

But though he is completely " at one," accord- 
ing to his own statement; with most of the cele- 
brated personages of the day, if not all, he cannot 
tell you the most commonly known facts about 
them to save his life. And though — again accord- 
ing to his own statement — he has read every book 
ever published, visited every picture gallery, 
" salon " and theatre in Europe, he cannot pro- 
nounce the name of one single foreign author or 
artist correctly. His English is bad enough, but 
his French is worse. He seldom makes excursions 
into the Italian language — " Igh — talian " as he 
calls it, but it is quite enough for the merest begin- 
ner in the Tuscan tongue to hear him say " gon- 
dola" to take the measure of his capacity. " Gon- 
dola " is a word 3Q easily learned and so often 



148 FREE OPINIONS 

used In Italian that one might think any child 
could master its pronunciation from twice hear- 
ing It — but the American Bounder makes the whole 
tour of Italy without losing a scrap of his own 
special nasal lingo and returns in triumph to talk 
of the " gondola " and the " bella ragg-azza " 
(Instead of ragazza) till one's ears almost ache 
with the hideous Infliction of his abominable 
accent. In Switzerland he is always alluding to 
" Mount Blank " — the '' C^ntone Gry-son " — 
" Noo-shatell " — and the " Mountain Vert " — 
and In Great Britain he has been heard to speak 
of hoche Kay-trine and Ben A^^^vls, as well as of 
Conmton and Cornwall. But It Is quite " cor- 
rect " he will tell you — It Is only the English peo- 
ple who do not know how to talk English. The 
actual, true, pure pronunciation of the English 
language went over to the States with the Scroobys 
of Scrooby, and he their descendant and Bounder, 
has preserved It Intact. Even Shakespeare's river 
Avon becomes metamorphosed under the roll of 
his atrocious tongue. He will not pronounce It 
with the English A, as In the word " b«y," — he 
calls It AVon, as the " a " Is sounded In the word 
av3.ricc — so that the soft poetic name of the classic 
stream appears to have been bitten off by him and 
swallowed like a pop-corn. But It would be of 
no use to argue with him on this or on any other 
point, because he Is always right. No real Ameri- 
can Bounder was ever wrong. 

One cannot but observe what a close acquaint^ 



THE AMERICAN BOUNDER 149 

ance the Bounder has with Debrett and various 
" County " Directories. His study of these vol- 
umes is almost as profound as that of Mr. Balfour 
must have been when writing " The Foundations 
of Belief." Between Debrett and Baedeker he 
manages to elicit a certain useful stock of surface 
Information which he Imparts In a kind of cheap 
toy-cracker fashion to various persons, who, 
politely listening, wonder why he appears to think 
that they are not aware of facts familiar to them 
from their childhood. His modes of appearing 
''to know, you know!" are exceedingly simple. 
For example, suppose him to be asked to join a 
" house-party " in Suffolk. He straightway studies 
the " County Directory " of that quarter of Eng- 
land, and looks up the principal persons men- 
tioned therein In various- other books of handy 
reference. When, in due course, he arrives at the 
house to which he has been invited, he manages to 
faintly surprise uninitiated persons by his (appar- 
ently) familiar acquaintance with the pedigree and 
history of this or that " county " magnate, and his 
(apparently) Intimate knowledge of such and such 
celebrated paintings and '' objets d'art " as adorn 
the various historical mansions in the district — 
knowledge for which he Is merely Indebted to 
Baedeker. He Is as loquacious as a village wash- 
erwoman. He will relate any number of scanda- 
lous stories in connection with the several families 
of whose ways and doings he pretends to have 
such close and particular information — and shoulcj 



150 FREE OPINIONS 

any listener interrupt him with a mild " Pardon 
me! — but, having resided in this neighbourhood 
ail my life I venture to think you must be mis- 
taken; " — he merely smiles blandly at such a dis- 
play of " native " ignorance. " Lived here all 
your life and not know that! " he exclaims — " My 
word ! It takes an Amwrrican to teach you what's 
going on in your own country! " 

Offensive as is this more or less ordinary type 
of American Bounder who makes his " home in 
Yew-rope " on fourth floors of fashionable hotels, 
a still worse and more offensive specimen is found 
in the Starred-and-Striped Bounding Millionaire. 
This individual — who has frequently attained to a 
plethora of cash through one of two reprehensible 
ways — either by " sweating " labour, or by fooling 
shareholders in " trust " companies, — comes to 
Great Britain with the fixed impression that every- 
thing in the " darned old place " can be bought for 
money. Unfortunately he is often right. The 
British — originally and by nature proud, reserved, 
and almost savagely tenacious of their freedom 
and independence — have been bitten by the Trans- 
atlantic madness of mere Greed, and their blood 
has been temporarily poisoned by infection. But 
one may hope and believe that it is only a passing 
malady, and that the old healthy life will re-invest 
the veins of the nation all the more strongly for 
partial sickness and relapse. In the meantime 
it occasionally happens that the " free " Briton 
bows his head like a whipped mongrel cur to the 



THE AMERICAN BOUNDER 151 

bulging Bank-Account of the American Million- 
aire-Bounder. And the American Millionaire- 
Bounder plants his flat foot on the so foolishly 
bent pate and walks over it with a commercial 
chuckle. " You talk of your ' Noblesse oblige/ 
your honour, your old historic tradition and aris- 
tocratic Order!" he says, sneeringly — "Why 
there isn't a man alive in Britain that I couldn't 
buy, principles and all, for fifty thousand 
pounds ! " 

This kind of vaunt at Britain's expense is com- 
mon to the American Millionaire-Bounder — and 
whether It arises out of his conscious experience 
of the British, or his braggart conceit, must be left 
to others to query or determine. Certain It Is that 
he does buy a good deal, and that the owners of 
such things as he wants seem always ready to sell. 
Famous estates are knocked down to him — manu- 
scripts and pictures which should be the preciously 
guarded property of the nation, are easily pur- 
chased by him, — and, laughing in his sleeve at the 
purblind apathy of the British Government, which 
calmly looks on while he pockets such relics of 
national greatness as unborn generations will 
vainly and indignantly ask for, — he congratulates 
himself on possessing, as he says, " the only few 
things the old country has got left worth having." 
One can but look gloomily through the " Calendar 
of Shakespearean Rarities," collected by Halli- 
well Phillips, which were offered to the wealthy 
city of Birmingham for £7,000, and reflect that 



152 FREE OPINIONS 

this same wealthy city disgraced itself by refusing 
to purchase the collection and by allowing every- 
thing to be bought and carried away from Eng- 
land by " an American " in 1897. We do not say 
this American was a *' Bounder " — nevertheless, 
if he had been a real lover of Shakespeare's mem- 
ory, rather than of himself, he would have bought 
these relics for Shakespeare's native country and 
presented them for Shakespeare's sake to Shake- 
speare's native people, who are not, as a People, 
to blame for the parsimony of their Governments. 
They pay taxes enough in all conscience, and at 
least they deserve that what few relics remain of 
their Greatest Man should be saved and ensured 
to them. 

But perhaps the American Millionaire-Bounder 
Is at his best when he has bought an English news- 
paper and is running it in London. Then he feels 
as If he were running the Imperial Government 
Itself — nay, almost the Monarchy. He Imagines 
that he has his finger on the very pulse of. Time. 
He hugs himself in the consciousness that the 
British people, — that large majority of them who 
are not behind the scenes — buy his paper, believing 
It to be a British paper, not a journal of " Amurri- 
can " opinion, that is, opinion as ordered and paid 
for by one " Amwrrican." He knows pretty well 
In his own mind that if they understood that such 
was the actual arrangement, they would save their 
pence. Unfortunately the great drawback of the 
" man In the street " who buys newspapers, I3 



THE AMERICAN BOUNDER 153 

that he has no time to enquire as to the way In 
which the' journals he confides in are " run." If 
he knew that the particular view taken of the 
political situation In a certain journal, was merely 
the political view ordered to be taken by one 
*' Amwrrlcan " — naturally he would not pin his 
simple faith upon it. Perhaps the Man in the 
Street will some day wake up to the realization 
that in many cases, (though not all) with respect 
to journalism, he only exists to be " gulled." 

Like all good and bad things, the American 
Bounder, whether millionaire or only shabby- 
genteel, has a certain height beyond which he can 
no further go — a point where he culminates in a 
blaze of ultra Bounder-ism. This brilliant apoth- 
eosis is triumphantly reached in the Female of his 
species. The American Female Bounder is the 
quintessence of vulgarity, and in every way makes 
herself so objectionable even to her own people 
and country that Americans themselves view her 
departure for " Yew-rope " with perfect equanim- 
ity, and hope she will never come back. Once in 
what she calls '' the old country " she talks all day 
long through her quivering nose of " Lady This " 
and " Countess That." One of this class I recall 
now as I write, who spoke openly of a " Mrs. 
Countess So-and-So " — and utterly declined to 
be instructed in any other form of address. She 
is not content to trace her lineage to such humble 
folk as the " Scroobys of Scrooby " — no Indeed, 
not she! Kings are her ancestors; — her " family 



154 FREE OPINIONS 

tree " sprouted from Richard the Lion-Heart, 
according to her own bombastic assertion, and she, 
with her loud twanging voice, odious manners 
and insufferable impertinence, is " genuine stock " 
of royallest origin. Of course it is quite possible 
that, as in horticulture, a once nobly cultivated 
human plant may, if left without wholesome or 
fostering influences, degenerate into a weed — but 
that so rank a weed as the American Female 
Bounder should be the dire result of the Con- 
queror's blood is open to honest doubt. She gener- 
ally has a " mission " to reform something or some- 
body, — she is very often a " Christian science " 
woman, or a theosophist. Sometimes she " takes 
up " Art as though it were a dustpan, and sweeps 
into it under her " patronage " certain dusty and 
doubtful literary and musical aspirants who want 
a " hearing " for their efforts. Fortunately for 
the world, a " hearing " under the gracious aus- 
pices of the American Female Bounder means a 
silence everywhere else. She is fond of " frocks 
and frills " — and wears an enormous quantity of 
jewels, " stones " as she calls them. She " pushes '* 
herself in every possible social direction, and wher- 
ever she sees she is not wanted, there, more partic- 
ularly than elsewhere, she contrives to force an 
entry. She embraces the game of " Bridge " with 
passionate eagerness because she sees that by keep- 
ing open house, with card-tables always ready, she 
can attract the loafing " great ones of the earth," 
and possibly persuade a " Mrs. Countess " to 



THE AMERICAN BOUNDER 155 

befriend her. If she Is fairly wealthy, she can 
generally manage to do this. All Mrs. Countesses 
have not " that repose which stamps the caste 
of Vere de Vere.'* Some of them find the Ameri- 
can Female Bounder useful — and precisely in the 
manner she offers herself, even so they take her. 
And thus it often happens that one frequently 
meets her where she has no business to be. One 
is not surprised to find her at Court, or in the Royal 
enclosure at Ascot, because so many of her British 
sisters in the Bounder line are in these places, 
ready to give her a helping hand — but one is occa- 
sionally startled and in a manner sorry to discover 
her making herself at home among certain " exclu- 
sive " people who are chiefly distinguished for 
their good-breeding, culture and refinement. In 
one thing, however, we can take much comfort, 
and this is, that whatever the American Bounder, 
Male or Female, may purchase or otherwise insidi- 
ously obtain in the Old World, neither he nor she 
can ever secure respect. Driven to bay as the 
Britisher may be by consummate and pertinacious 
lying, he can and does withhold from the liars 
his honest esteem. He may sell a valuable manu- 
script or picture to a '' bounding " Yankee, out 
of sheer necessitous circumstance, but he will never 
be " friends " with the purchaser. He will call 
him " bounder " to the crack of doom, and Dooms- 
day itself will not alter that impression of him. 

It may be, and it is I think, taken for granted 
that America itself is very glad to get rid of its 



156 FREE OPINIONS 

" bounders." It regards them with as much 
shame and distress as we feel when we see certain 
specimens of ^' travelling English " disporting 
themselves upon the Continent in the 'Arry and 
Jemima way. We always fervently hope that our 
Continental neighbours will not take these extraor- 
dinary roughs as bona-fide examples of the British 
people, and in the same way America trusts all the 
nations of Europe not to accept their " Bounders " 
as examples of the real pith and power of the 
United States. The American People are too 
great, too broad-minded, sane, and thorough, not 
to wish to shake off these aphides on their rose of 
life. They watch them '' clearing out " for 
" Yew-rope " with perfect satisfaction. Said a 
charming American woman to me the other day — 
*' What a pity It is that English people will keep 
on receiving Americans here who would not be 
tolerated for a moment In New York or Boston 
society ! It surprises us very greatly. Sometimes 
indeed we cannot help laughing to see the names 
of women figuring among your ' haute noblesse ' 
who would never get Inside a decent house any- 
where in the States. But more often we are sorry 
that your social ' leaders ' are so easily taken In ! " 
Here indeed is the sum total of the matter. 
If Great Britain — and other countries in Europe — 
but Great Britain especially — did not " receive " 
and encourage the American Bounder and Bound- 
eress, these objectionable creatures would never be 
known or heard of. Therefore it is our fault that 



THE AMERICAN BOUNDER 157 

they exist. Were it not for our short-sighted 
foolishness, and our proneness to believe that 
every " Amwrrican " with money must be worth 
knowing, we should be better able to sort the sheep 
from the goats. We should add to the pleasures 
of our social life and intercourse an agreeable 
knowledge of the real American ladies, the real 
American gentlemen ; and though these are seldom 
seen over here, for the very good reason that they 
are valued and wanted in their own country, they 
could at least be certain, when they did come, 
of being received at their proper valuation, and not 
set to herd with the " Bounders " of their country, 
whom their country rejects. For one may presume 
that there is some cogent reason why an American 
citizen of the Greatest Republic in the world, 
should elect to desert his native land and " settle 
down " under " rotten old monarchies." People 
do not leave the home of their birth for ever unless 
they find it impossible to live there for causes best 
known to themselves. The poor are often com- 
pelled to emigrate, we know, in the hope to find 
employment and food in other countries — but 
when the rich " slope off " from the very centres 
where they have made their capital, one may be 
permitted to doubt the purity of their intentions. 
Anyway, surrounded as we are to-day socially 
by Am.erican Bounders of every description, — 
American Bounders who think themselves as good 
as any one else " and a darned sight better "• — 
American Bounders who declare that they are 



158 FREE OPINIONS 

the " real old British race renewed '' — American 
Bounders who *' run " British journals of " literary 
opinion " and so forth, — American Bounders who 
thrust themselves into the company of unhappy 
kings and queens, those crowned slaves who in 
such earthquaking days as these have to be more 
than common careful " not to offend," — American 
Bounders who themselves claim kinship with 
the blood royal, — the one straight and simple fact 
remains — namely, that all the best Americans 
still live in America I 



COWARD ADAM 

j^MONG the numerous fascinating and de- 
L\ llghtful members of the male sex whom I 
-A- _Vhave the honour to count as friends, there 
IS one very handsome and devotedly attentive gen- 
tleman of four years old, who is particularly fond 
of reciting to me in private the following striking 
poem on the Fall of Man : 

When Mister Sarpint did deceive 

Poor little silly Missis Eve, 

The Lord he spied an apple gone 

From off the branch it hanged upon; 

That apple was a heavy loss, 

And so the Lord got very cross. 

He searched the garden through and through, 

And called " Hi Adam ! where are you ? " 

But Mister Adam, he, 

Clum up a tree. 

There is something in this graphic narrative 
which appears to tickle my young cavalier's fancy 
Immensely, for whenever he says " Mister Adam, 
he, Clum up a tree," he opens his big blue eyes 
very widely, claps his tiny hands very loudly, and 
gives vent to ecstatic shrieks of laughter. It Is 
quite evident that he entirely understands and 
appreciates Adam's position. Young as he Is, he 
has the Instinctive knowledge within him that when 

159 



i6o FREE OPINIONS 

the time comes, he will likewise adopt the *' Clum 
up a tree " policy. For Adam is the same Adam 
still, and nothing will ever change him. And when 
things are getting rather *' mixed " in his career, 
and the forbidden fruit he has so readily devoured 
turns out to be rather more sour and tasteless than 
he had anticipated, — when his Garden of Eden is 
being searched through and through for the causes 
of the folly and disobedience which have devas- 
tated its original fairness, the same old story may 
be said of him — " Mister Adam, he, Clum up a 
tree." Perhaps if he only climbed a tree one might 
excuse him, — but unfortunately he talks while 
climbing, — talks as though he were an old bab- 
bling grandam instead of a lord of creation, — and 
grandam-like puts the blame on somebody else. 
He says — " The woman whom thou gavest to be 
with me, she gave me of the tree and I did eat." 
Coward Adam ! Observe how he at once transfers 
the fault of his own lack of will and purpose to the 
weaker, more credulous, more loving and trusting 
partner; — how he leaves her defenceless to brave 
the wrath which he himself dreads, — and how he 
never for one half second dreams of admitting 
himself to be the least in the wrong! But there 
is always one great satisfaction to be derived from 
the perusal of the strange old Eden story, and this 
is that " Mister Sarpint " was of the male gender. 
Scripture leaves no room for doubt on this point. 
It says: " Now the serpent was more subtil than 
any beast of the field which the Lord God had 



COWARD ADAM i6i 

made. And he said unto the woman " So 

that a '' h-e " tempted a woman, before " she " 
ever tempted a " he." Women should be duly 
thankful for the sex of " Mister Sarpint," and 
should also bear In mind that this particular " he " 
was '* more subtil than any beast of the field which 
the Lord God had made." On many an occasion 
it will be found a salutary and useful fact to 
remember. 

Once upon a time, so we are told, there was an 
Age of Chivalry. The word " chivalry " is stated 
in the dictionary to be derived from the French 
" cheval " a horse, and " chivalrous " men were, 
in the literal meaning of the term, merely men who 
rode about on horseback. But chivalry has some- 
how come to imply respect, devotion, and rever- 
ence for women. The " chivalrous " knight is sup- 
posed to have gone all over the world, wearing the 
glove or the ribbon of his " ladye faire," in his 
helmet, and challenging to single combat every 
other knight that dared to question the supremacy 
of her beauty and virtue. I confess at once that I 
do not believe In him. If he ever existed he must 
have been a most unnatural and abnormal product 
of humanity, as unlike his first progenitor Adam as 
he could well be. For even in the " Round Table " 
romances one finds an entire lack of chivalry in 
the so-called chivalrous knights of King Arthur. 
Their moral principles left much to be desired, and 
the conduct of Sir Meliagraunce who betrayed the 
loves of Lancelot and the Queen was merely that 



i62 FREE OPINIONS 

of a common sneak. Coward Adam spoke in him, 
as in many of the Arthurian heroes, — and that they 
were more " chivalrous " than the modern male 
gossips who jeer away a woman's name and honour 
in their smoking and gaming rooms, is a legend 
which like that of the Tree of Good and Evil 
itself, requires stronger confirmation than history 
as yet witnesseth. 

Coward Adam, taking him as he appears in the 
present day, has lately shown himself off in various 
odd phases and lamentable positions. During the 
South African War he came out strong in some of 
our generals, who put the blame of certain military 
mishaps on one another like quarrelsome children, 
thereby losing dignity and offering a most humili- 
ating spectacle to the amazed British public. 
Coward Adam's policy, after making a blunder, is 
to adopt any lie, rather than say frankly and 
boldly — " I did it! " He will eat dirt by the bushel 
in preference to the nobler starvation act of singly 
facing his foes. He is just now exhibiting himself 
to his usual advantage in the British Parliament, 
while the nation looks on, waiting for the inev- 
itable finale of his various hesitations and ineffi- 
ciencies — the " Mister Adam, he, Clum up a tree." 
For in most matters of social, political, and moral 
progress the great difficulty is to obtain an upright, 
downright, honest and impartial opinion from any 
leading public man. The nation may be drifting 
devilwards, but statesmen are judged to be more 
statesmanlike, if they hold their tongues and watch 



COWARD ADAM 163 

It go. They must not speak the truth. It would 
offend so many people. It would upset so many 
interests. It would create a panic on the Stock 
Exchange. It would throw Wall Street Into hys- 
terics. The world's vast public, composed of 
thinking, working, and more or less educated and 
Intelligent people, may and do crave for a bold 
utterance, a truth openly enunciated and bravely 
maintained, but to the weavers of political intrigue 
and the self-seeking schemers In Governmental 
departments, the public Is considered merely as a 
Big Child, to be soothed with lollipop phrases and 
tickled by rattle promises. If the Big Child cries 
and screams because it Is hungry, they chirp to it 
about Fair Trade, — if it complains that Its minis- 
ters of religion are trying to make it say Its prayers 
backwards, they promise a full " enquiry Into 
recent abuses In the Church." But fine words but- 
ter no parsnips. Coward Adam always climbs up 
a tree as quickly as he can when instead of fine 
words, fine deeds are demanded. Physical feats of 
skill, physical gymnastics of all kinds he excels In, 
but a moral difficulty always places him as It did in 
the Garden of Eden, in what he would convention- 
ally term " an awkward position." 

" Never kiss and tell " is I believe an " unwrit- 
ten law of chivalry." This law, so I understand. 
Coward Adam does sometimes manage to obey 
albeit reluctantly. Because he would like to tell, — 
he would very much like to tell, — If — If the story 
of the kiss did not Involve himself In the telling I 



i64 FREE OPINIONS 

But at this juncture *' the unwritten laws of chiv- 
alry " step in and he is saved. And chivalry is the 
tree up which he climbs, chattering to himself the 
usual formula — '* The woman whom thou gavest 
to be with me," — etcetera, etcetera. Alas, poor 
woman ! She has heard him saying this ever since 
she, In an unselfish desire to share her food with 
him, gave him the forbidden apple. No doubt she 
offered him its rosiest and ripest side ! She always 
does, — at first. Not afterwards! As soon as he 
turns traitor and runs up a tree, she takes to pelt- 
ing him, metaphorically speaking, with cocoa-nuts. 
This is quite natural on her part. She had thought 
him a man, — and when he suddenly changes into a 
monkey, she doesn't understand it. To this 
cause may possibly be attributed some of the ruc- 
tions which occasionally jar the harmonious estate 
of matrimony. 

Coward Adam does very well In America. He 
sees his position there quite plainly. He knows 
that if he climbs his tree too often, hundreds of 
feminine hands will pull him down. So he resigns 
himself to the inevitable. He is not slow to repeat 
the customary whine — " The woman whom thou 
gavest me " — but he says It quietly to himself 
between whiles. Because he knows that she knows 
all his share in the mischief ! So he digs and delves, 
and finds gold and silver and limitless oil where- 
with to turn into millions of dollars for her pleas- 
ure ; he packs pork, lays railway tracks, starts com- 
panies, organizes *' combines " — and strains every 



COWARD ADAM 165 

nerve and sinew to " do " every other Adam save 
himself in his own particular line of business, so 
that " the woman " (or may we say the women?) 
*' whom thou gavest " may be clothed In Paris 
model gowns, and wear jewels out-rlvalling In size 
and lustre those of all the kings and queens that 
ever made their sad and stately progress through 
history. Indeed, Coward Adam, In the position 
he occupies as a free citizen of that mighty Re- 
public over which the wild eagle screams exult- 
Ingly, looks a little bit like a beaten animal. But 
he bears his beating well, and Is quite pleasant 
about It. In regard to " the woman whom thou 
gavest me " he Is nearer the Imaginary code of 
" chivalry " than his European brother. If the 
original Adam had learned the ways of a modern 
American gentleman of good education and fine 
manners, one can quite imagine him saying — " The 
woman whom thou gavest to be with me gener- 
ously offered me a share of the apple, and I did 
eat. But the Serpent whom thou didst permit to 
tell lies to my amiable partner concerning this 
special kind of fruit, was chiefly to blame." 

Coward Adam, as he Is seen and known among 
the lower classes, crops up every day In newspapers, 
which duly chronicle his various acts, such as 
promising marriage to poor working girls and rob- 
bing them of all their little savings, as well as of 
their good names, — kicking his wife, starving his 
children, and spending every penny he earns In 
the public-house. But he is just as frequently 



i66 FREE OPINIONS 

met with In the houses of the Upper Ten. He 
will wear the garb of a lord with ease, and, enter- 
ing the house of another lord, will cozen his host's 
wife away from loyalty to her husband in quite the 
manner " friendly." He is likewise to be found 
occasionally in the walks of literature, and where 
a woman is concerned in matters artistic will 
" down " her if he can. He has always done his 
best to hinder woman from receiving any acknowl- 
edgment for superior intellectual ability. Notably 
one may quote the case of Madame Curie, the 
discoverer of radium. Coward Adam says she dis- 
covered it by " a fluke " — that is to say, by chance. 
Most great discoveries occur, even to men, in the 
same way. In the present instance the " chance " 
came to a woman. Why should she not therefore 
have all the honour due to her ? — the same honour 
precisely as would fall to the lot of a man in her 
place? Columns upon columns of praise would be 
bestowed upon her were she of Adam's sex, and all 
the academies of science would contend with each 
other as to which should offer her the best and 
most distinctive award. But Coward Adam can- 
not abide the thought that ^' the woman whom 
thou gavest " should take an occasionally higher 
rank than his own among the geniuses of his age. 
He must have everything or nothing. He tries to 
ignore the fact that woman is winning equal hon- 
ours with himself in University degrees ; he would 
fain forget that the two greatest monarchs Great 
Britain ever had were women — Elizabeth and Vic- 



COWARD ADAM 167 

torla. There Is a brave Adam, of course — a civil- 
ized creature who owns and admits the brilliant 
achievements of woman with pride and tenderness, 
— I am only just now speaking of the coward spec- 
imen. The brave Adam does not turn tail or climb 
trees, and he appears to have had nothing to do 
with the Garden of Eden. Very likely he was born 
somewhere else. For he says — " The woman 
whom thou gavest to be with me is the joy of my 
life, — the companion of my thoughts. To her my 
soul turns, — for her my heart beats — in her I 
rejoice, — her triumphs are my pride, — her success 
is my delight ! If danger threatens her, I will be 
her defender, not her accuser, — should she be 
blamed for aught, I will take her fault upon my- 
self, and will serve as a strong shield between her 
and calumny. This is the least I can do to prove 
my love towards her — for without her I should be 
the worst of creatures, — a lonely soul in an empty 
world!" 

So says, or may say brave Adam! But his 
coward brother does not understand such high- 
flown sentiments. Coward Adam's main object 
in life is to " avoid a scene " with either the Lord 
Almighty, Mister Sarpint or Missis Eve. He 
likes to wriggle out of difficulties, both public and 
private, in a quiet way. He does not understand 
the '* methods " of plain blunt people who tell him 
frankly what a sneak he Is. He Is very ubiquitous, 
and much more frequently to be met with than his 
braver twin. And if he should chance to read what 



i68 FREE OPINIONS 

I have here set down concerning him, he will prob- 
ably say as usual: *' The woman whom thou 
gavest " In various forms of anonymous vitupera- 
tion. But his active policy will remain the same as 
it ever was — " Mister Adam, he, Clum up a 
tree I" 



ACCURSED EVE 

WHEN the masculine Serpent, " who was 
more subtil than any beast of the field 
which the Lord had made, tempted 
the mother of mankind to eat of the forbidden 
fruit, the Voice in the Garden said to her — " I 
will greatly multiply thy sorrow ! " It can scarcely 
be denied that this curse has been fulfilled. So 
manifold and incessant have been the sorrows of 
Woman since the legendary account of the crea- 
tion of the world, that, one cannot help thinking 
the whole business somewhat unfair, if, — for 
merely being " beguiled " by a beast of the field 
who was known to be more " subtil " than any 
other, and afterwards being " given away " 
by Coward Adam, — Eve and all the descend- 
ants of her sex should be compelled to suffer 
centuries of torture. The injustice is manifestly 
cruel and arbitrary, — yet it would seem to have 
followed poor Accursed Eve from then till now. 
" I will greatly multiply thy sorrow! " And sor- 
row has been multiplied to such an aggravated and 
barbarous extent upon her unfortunate head, that 
in the Jewish ritual to this very day there is a part 
of the service wherein the men, standing in the 
presence of women, individually say: "Blessed 

169 



I70 FREE OPINIONS 

art thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, 
who hast not made me a woman ! " thus deliber- 
ately insulting, in their very house of worship, the 
sex of their mothers ! 

But from the earliest times, if we are to accept 
historical testimony, the Jews of the ancient world 
appear to have treated women in the majority as 
" Something worser than their dog, a little lower 
than their horse." Save and except those rare 
cases where the Jewish woman suddenly found out 
her latent powers and employed them to advan- 
tage, the Jewish man made her fetch and carry 
for him like a veritable beast of burden. He 
yoked her to his plough with oxen, — ^he sold and 
exchanged her with his friends as freely as any 
other article of commerce, — his " base uses " of 
her were various, and seldom to his credit, — while, 
such as they were, they only lasted so long as they 
satisfied his immediate humour. When done with, 
she was " cast out." The kind of " casting out " 
to which she was subjected is not always explained. 
But it may be taken for granted that in many 
instances she was either killed immediately, or 
turned adrift to die of starvation and weariness. 
The Jews in their Biblical days were evidently not 
much affected by her griefs. They were God's 
" chosen " people, — and the fact that women were 
the mothers of the whole " chosen " race, ap- 
peared to call for no claim on their chivalrous 
tenderness or consideration. 

Looking back through the vista of time to that 



ACCURSED EVE 171 

fabled Eden, when she listened to the tempting 
of the " subtil " one, the wrongs and Injustices 
endured by Accursed Eve at the hand of Coward 
Adam make up a calendar of appalling, almost 
superhuman crime. Man has taken the full license 
allowed him by the old Genesis story (which, by 
the way, was evidently Invented by man himself 
for his own convenience). '' Thy desire shall be 
to thy husband and he shall rule over thee.'' And 
among all tribes, and In all nations he has ruled; 
with a rod of iron! The Christian dispensation 
has interfered somewhat with his former reign 
of tyranny, for with the birth of Christ came, to 
a certain extent, the idealization and beatification 
of womanhood. The Greeks and Romans, how- 
ever, had a latent glimmering idea of what 
Woman in all her glory should be, and of what 
she might possibly attain to In the future, — for all 
their grandest symbols of life, such as Truth, 
Beauty, Justice, Fortune, Fame, Wisdom, are 
always represented by their sculptors clothed in 
the female form divine. It is a curious fact, that 
in those early periods of civilization, when Liter- 
ature and Art were just dawning upon the world, 
man, though aggregating to his own Ego nearly 
everything In the universe, paused before repre 
senting himself as a figure of Justice, Mercy o- 
Wisdom. He evidently realized his unfitness to 
stand, even in marble, before the world as a sym- 
bol of moral virtue. He therefore, with a grace 
which well became him in those '* pagan " days, 



172 FREE OPINIONS 

bent the knee to all noble attributes of humanity 
as represented in Woman. Her fair face, her 
beauteous figure, greeted him in all his temples of 
worship; — as Venus and Diana she smiled upon 
him; as the goddess of Fortune or Chance, she 
accepted his votive wreaths, — as Fame or Vic- 
tory, she gave him blessing whenever he went to 
war, or returned in triumph from the field, — 
and all this was but the embryo or shadowing- 
forth of woman's higher future and better possi- 
bilities, when the days of her long and cruel pro- 
bation should be accompished, and her *' curse " 
in part be hfted. There are signs and tokens that 
this happy end is in sight. Accursed Eve is be- 
ginning to have a good time. And the only fear 
now is, lest she should overstep the mark of her 
well-deserved liberty and run headlong into license. 
For Eve, — with or without curse, — is naturally 
impulsive and credulous; and being too often 
forgetful of the little incident which occurred to 
her in the matter of the Tree of Good and Evil, 
is still far too prone to listen to the beguiling of 
" subtil " personages worse " than any beast of 
the field which the Lord hath made." 

Accursed Eve, having broken several of her 
old-time fetters, and beginning to feel her feet as 
well as her wings, just now wants a word in poli- 
tics. As one of her cursed daughters, I confess I 
wonder that she should wish to put herself to so 
much unnecessary trouble, seeing that she has the 
whole game in her hands. Politics are generally 



ACCURSED EVE 173 

hustled along by Coward Adam, — unless, by 
rarest chance, Brave Adam, his twin brother, sud- 
denly steps forth unexpectedly, when there ensues 
what Is called a '' collapse of the Government." 
In any question, small or great. Accursed Eve has 
only to offer Coward Adam the apple, and he will 
eat it. Which metaphor implies that even In poli- 
tics. If she only moves him round gradually to her 
own views In that essentially womanly way which, 
while persuading, seems not to persuade, he is 
bound to yield. Personally speaking, I do not 
know any man who is not absolutely under the 
thumb of at least one woman. And I will not 
believe that there is any woman so feeble, so 
stupid, so lost to the power and charm of her own 
Individuality, as not to be able to influence quite 
half a dozen men. This being the case, what 
does Accursed Eve want with a vote? If she is 
so unhappy, so ugly, so repulsive, so deformed In 
mind and manners as to have no Influence at all 
on any creature of the male sex whatever, neither 
father, nor brother, nor uncle, nor cousin, nor 
lover, nor husband, nor friend, — would the opin- 
ion of such an one be of any consequence, or her 
vote of any value? I assert nothing, — I only ask 
the question. 

Speaking personally as a woman, I have no 
politics, and want none. I only want the British 
Empire to be first and foremost in everything, 
and I tender my sincerest homage to all the men 
of every party who will honestly work towards 



174 FREE OPINIONS 

that end. These being my sentiments, I depre- 
cate any strong separate parliamentary attitude 
on the part of Accursed Eve. I say that she has 
much better, wider work to do than take part in 
tow-rows with the rather undignified personages 
who often make somewhat of a bear-garden of 
the British House of Commons. That she would 
prove a good M.P. were she a man, I am quite 
sure; but as a woman I know she " goes one bet- 
ter," in becoming the wife of an M.P. 

Accursed Eve ! Mother of the world ! What 
higher thing does she seek? Mother of Christi- 
anity itself, she stands before us, a figure sym- 
bolic of all good, her Holy Child in her arms, her 
sweet, musing, prayerful face bending over it in 
gravely tender devotion. From her soft breast 
humanity springs renewed, — she represents the 
youth, the hope, the love of all mankind. 
Wronged as she has been, and as she still is, her 
patience never fails. Deceived, she " mends her 
broken shell with pearl," and still trusts on.. Her 
sweet credulousness is the same as ever it was; — 
the " subtil " one can always over-reach her 
through her too ready confidence in the idea that 
*' all things work together for good." Her 
" curse " is the crime of loving too well, — ^believ- 
ing too much. Should a " subtil " one say he loves 
her, she honestly thinks he does. When he turns 
out, as often happens, to be looking after her 
money rather than herself, she can scarcely force 
her mind to realize that he is not so much hero as 



ACCURSED EVE 175 

cad. When she has to earn her own living in 
any of the artistic professions, she will frequently 
tell all her plans, hopes and ambitions to " subtil " 
ones with the most engaging frankness. The 
" subtil " ones naturally take every advantage of 
her, and some of then! put a stopgap on her efforts 
if they can. 

How many times men have tried to steal away 
the honour of a woman's name and fame in liter- 
ature need not here be chronicled. Of how many 
books, bearing a woman's name on the title-page 
it is said — " Her husband helped her," — or " She 
got Mr. So-and-So to write the descriptive part! " 
" George Eliot " has often been accused of being 
assisted in her novels by Mr. Lewes. A little 
incident, — touching enough to my mind, — is re- 
lated In the memoirs of Charlotte Bronte. After 
her marriage, and when she was expecting the 
birth of her child, she was reading some of the 
first chapters of an intended new novel to her hus- 
band, — who, as he listened, said in that peculiarly 
encouraging way which is common to men who 
have gifted women to deal with — " You seem to 
be repeating yourself. You must take care not to 
repeat yourself." Poor little soul! She never 
" repeated " herself, — she just died. No one can 
tell how her husband's thoughtless phrase may 
have teazed or perplexed her sensitive mind in a 
critical condition of health, and helped to hasten 
the fatal end. 

Edward Fitzgerald's celebrity as a scholar is 



176 FREE OPINIONS 

not, and never will be wide enough to blot out 
from remembrance his brutal phrase on hearing 
of the death of Elizabeth Barrett Browning — 

" Mrs. Browning is dead. Thank God we shall 
have no more Aurora Leighs ! " 

While, far more creditable to Algernon Charles 
Swinburne than his own praise of himself now 
unfortunately affixed to the newly collected edi- 
tion of his works, is the praise he bestows on this 
noble woman-genius in his preface to her great 
poem. I quote one line of it here — 

" No English contemporary poet by profession 
has left us work so full of living fire." 

For once, and in this particular instance, Ac- 
cursed Eve in literature has, in such a verdict, 
won her merited literary honours. 

But as a rule honours are withheld from her, 
and the laurel is filched from her brows by Coward 
Adam ere she has time to wear it. One flagrant 
case is well known, of a man who having lived 
entirely on a woman's literary earnings for years, 
went about in the clothes her pen had paid for, 
among the persons to whom, through her influ- 
ence, he had been introduced, boasting that he 
assisted her to write the greater part of her books. 
To their shame be it said, a great many people 
believed him; and not till he was dead, and the 
woman went on writing her books as before, did 
they even begin to see the wrong they had done 
her. They would not have dared to calumniate 
the false boaster as they calumniated the innocent 



ACCURSED EVE 177 

hard worker. The boaster was a man, — the 
worker was-a woman; — therefore the dishonour 
of passing off literary work not one's own must, 
so they imagined, naturally belong to Accursed 
Eve, — not to Coward Adam! Of their humilia- 
tion when the real truth was known, history sayeth 
nothing. 

Yet with all the weight of her curse more or 
less upon her, and with all her sorrows, shattered 
ideals, wrecked hopes, and lost loves, Accursed 
Eve is still the most beautiful, the most perfect 
figure in creation. Her failings, her vanities, 
her weaknesses, her sins, arise in the first place 
from love — even if afterwards, through Coward 
Adam's ready encouragement, they degenerate 
into vice and animalism. Her first impulse in 
earliest youth is a desire to please Adam, — the 
same impulse precisely which led her to offer him 
the forbidden apple in the first days of their mu- 
tual acquaintance. She wishes to charm him, — 
to win his heart, — to endear herself to him in a 
thousand tender ways, — to wind herself irretriev- 
ably round his life. If she succeeds in this aim, 
she is invariably happy and virtuous. But if she 
is made to feel that she cannot hold him on whom 
her thoughts are centred, — if his professed love 
for her only proves weak and false when put to 
trial, — if he finds it easy to forget both sentiment 
and courtesy, and is quick to add insult to injury, 
then all the finer and more delicate emotions of 
her nature become warped and unstrung, — and 



178 FREE OPINIONS 

though she endures her suffering because she must, 
she resents it and takes vengeance when she 
can. 

Of resentfulness against wrong and revenge for 
injustice, come what are called " bad women." 
Yet I would humbly venture to maintain that even 
these " bad " were not bad In the first instance. 
They were born in the usual way, with the usual 
Eve impulse, — the desire to please, not themselves, 
but the opposite sex. If their instinctive efforts 
have been met with cruelty, oppression, neglect, 
desertion and sometimes the most heartless and 
cowardly betrayal, they can scarcely be blamed 
if they play the same tricks on the unloving, dis- 
loyal churls for whom they have perhaps sacri- 
ficed the best part of their lives. For innocent 
faith and trusting love are the best part of every 
woman's life ; and when these are destroyed by the 
brutalizing touch of some Coward Adam, the 
woman may well claim compensation for her soul's 
murder. 

Accursed Eve ! Still she loves, — to find herself 
fooled and cheated; still she hopes, even while 
hope eludes her, — still she waits, for what she 
may never win, — still she prays prayers that may 
never be answered, — still she bears and rears the 
men of the future, wondering perchance whether 
any of them will ever help to do her justice, — will 
ever place her where she should be as the acknowl- 
edged queenly *' help-meet " of her stronger, but 
less enduring partner! Beautiful, frail^ trusting, 



ACCURSED EVE i79 

loving, Accursed Eve! She bends beneath the 
curse,— but the clouds are lifting !— there is light 
in the sky of her future dawn! And it may be 
that a worse malediction than the one pronounced 
in Eden will fall on those who make her burden of 
life heavier to bear 1 



"IMAGINARY" LOVE 

My love 
Is as the very centre of the earth 
Drawing all things to it. 

— Troilus and Cressida. 

THERE Is perhaps no emotion more elevat- 
ing or more deceptive than that sudden 
uplifting of the heart and yearning of the 
senses which may be called " Imaginary " Love. 
It resembles the stirring of the sap in the roots of 
flowers, thrilling the very ground with hints and 
promises of spring, — it Is the unspeakable out- 
coming of human emotion and sympathy too great 
to be contained within itself, — the tremulous 
desire, — half vague and wholly innocent, — of the 
human soul for its mate. The lower grades of 
passion have not as yet ruffled the quivering white 
wings of this divinely sweet emotion, and the being 
who is happy enough to experience It in all Its 
Intensity, is, for the time, the most enviable on 
earth. Youth or maiden, whichever It be, the 
world Is a fairyland for this chosen dreamer. 
Nothing appears base or mean, — God's smile is 
reflected in every ray of sunshine, and Nature 
offers no prospect that Is not pleasing. It Is the 
season of glamour and grammarye, — a look over 

i8o 



"IMAGINARY" LOVE i8i 

the distant hills is sufficient to engage the mind 
of the dreaming girl with brilliant fancies of gal- 
lant knights riding from far-off countries, with 
their lady's colours pinned to their breasts " to 
do or die " for the sake of love and glory, — and 
the young boy, half in love with a pretty face he 
has seen on his way home from school or college, 
begins to think with all the poets, of eyes blue as 
skies, of loves and doves, and hearts and darts, in 
happy unconsciousness that his thoughts are not 
in the least original. Yet with all its ethereal 
beauty and gossamer-sense of pleasure, this 
*' imaginary " love is often the most pathetic 
experience we have or ever shall have in life. It 
is answerable for numberless griefs, — for bitter 
disillusions, — occasionally, too, for broken hearts. 
It glitters before us, a brilliant chimera, during 
our very young days, — and on our entrance into 
society it vanishes, leaving us to pursue it through 
many phases of existence, and always In vain. 
The poet is perhaps the happiest of all who join 
in this persistent chase after the impossible, — for 
he frequently continues to imagine " imaginary '* 
love with ecstasy and fervour to the very end of 
his days. Next in order comes the musician, who 
in the composition of a melancholy nocturne or 
tender ballad, or in the still greater work of a 
romantic opera, imagines " imaginary " love In 
strains of perfect sound, which waken in the hearts 
of his hearers all the old feverish longings, all the 
dear youthful dreams, all the delicious romances 



i82 FREE OPINIONS 

which accompanied the lovely white-winged Senti- 
ment in days past and dead for ever. Strange to 
say, it often happens that the musician, while thus 
appeasing his own insatiable thirst for " Imagi- 
nary " love, is frequently aware that he is arousing 
it In others; and could he probe to the very fibres 
of his thinking soul, he would confess to a certain 
keen satisfaction In the fact of his being able to 
revivify the old restless yearning of a pain which 
is sweeter to the lonely soul than pleasure. 

Now this expression of the /' lonely soul " Is 
used advisedly, because. In sad truth, every human 
soul is lonely. Lonely at birth, — still more lonely 
at death. During Its progress through life It 
gathers around it what It can in the way of crumbs 
of love, grains of affection, taking them tenderly 
and with tears of gratefulness. But It is always 
conscious of solitude, — an awful yet Divine soli- 
tude, over which the Infinite broods, watchful yet 
silent. Why it is brought Into conscious being, to 
live within a material frame and there perform 
certain duties and labours, and from thence depart 
again, it cannot tell. All is a mystery, — a strange 
Necessity, In which it cannot truly recognize Its 
part or place. Yet it IS, — and one of the strongest 
proofs of its separate Identity from the body is 
this ^' imaginary " love for which It yearns, and 
which it never obtains. " Imaginary " love is not 
earthly, — neither is it heavenly, — it Is something 
between both, a vague and inchoate feeling, which, 
though incapable of being reduced to any sort of 



'^ IMAGINARY" LOVE 183 

reason or logic, Is the foundation of perhaps all 
the greatest, art, music and poetry in the world. 
If we had to do merely with men as they are, and 
women as they are, Art would perish utterly from 
the face of the earth. It is because we make for 
ourselves '' ideal " men, " ideal " women, and 
endow these fair creations with the sentiment of 
" imaginary " love, that we still are able to com- 
municate with the gods. Not yet have we low- 
ered ourselves to the level of the beasts, — nor shall 
we do so, though things sometimes seem tending 
that way. Realism and Atheism have darkened 
the world, as they darken it now, long before the 
present time, and as defacements on the grandeur 
of the Universe they have not been permitted to 
remain. Nor will they be permitted now, — the 
reaction will, and must inevitably set In. The 
repulsive materialism of Zola, and others of his 
school, — the loose theories of the " smart " set, 
and the moral degradation of those who have no 
greater God than self, — these things are the merest 
ephemera, destined to leave no more mark on 
human history than the trail of a slug on one leaf 
of an oak. The Ideal must always be triumphant, 
— the soul can only hope to make way by climbing 
towards it. Thus it Is with '' imaginary " Love, — 
it must hold fast to its Ideal, or be content to perish 
on the plane of sensual passion, which exhausts 
itself rapidly, and once dead, is dead for ever and 
aye. 

With all its folly, sweetness, piteousness and 



i84 FREE OPINIONS 

pathos, " Imaginary " love Is the keynote of Art, — 
its fool-musings take shape in exquisite verse, in 
tales of romance and adventure, In pictures that 
bring the nations together to stand and marvel, 
in music that makes the strong man weep. It is 
the most supersensual of all delicate sensations, — 
as fine as a hair, as easily destroyed as a gnat's 
wing; — a rough touch will wound It, — a coarse 
word will kill it, — the sneer of the Realist shuts 
it In a coffin of lead and sinks It fathoms deep In 
the waters of despair. Strange and cruel as the 
fact may seem, Marriage appears to put an end to 
it altogether. 

Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's -wife 

He would have written sonnets to her all his life? 

Inquires Lord Byron. He certainly would not. 
The " imaginary " love of Petrarch was the source 
of his poetic Inspiration; If he had even dragged 
It down to the level of the commonplace Actual, 
he would have killed his Muse. In a similar way 
the love of Dante for Beatrice was of the " imagi- 
nary " quality. Those who read the " Vita 
Nuova " will scarcely fail to see how the great 
poet hugs his love-fancies and feeds himself with 
delicious extravagances in the way of idealized and 
sublimated soul-passion. He dissects every fine 
hair of a stray emotion, and writes a sonnet on 
every passing heart-beat. Dante's wife never 
became so transfigured In her husband's love. 
Why? Alas, who can say I No reason can be 



"IMAGINARY" LOVE 185 

given save that perchance *' familiarity breeds 
contempt," and that the Unattainable seems always 
more beautiful than the Attained. The delight 
of possession would appear to be as brief as the 
flowering of a rose. Lovers are in haste to wed, — 
but when the knot Is once irrevocably tied, in nine 
cases out of ten they wish it could be untied again. 
They no longer imagine " Imaginary " love. The 
glamour is gone. Illusions are all over. The 
woman is no longer the removed, the fair, the 
chaste, the unreachable, — the man ceases to be the 
proud, the strong hero endowed with the attributes 
of the gods. " Imaginary " love then resolves 
itself Into one of two things, — a firm, every-day, 
close and tender friendship, or else a sick disap- 
pointment, often ending in utter disgust. But the 
divine emotion of " Imaginary " love has fled, — 
the Soul is no longer enamoured of Its Ideal — and 
the delicate psychic passion which inspires the 
poet, the painter, the musician, turns at once to 
fresh objects of admiration and pursuit. For it 
Is never exhausted, — unlike any purely earthly 
sense it knows no satiety. Deceived in one direc- 
tion, it flies in another. Dissatisfied with worldly 
things, it extends its longing heavenwards, — there 
at least It shall find what it seeks, — not now, but 
hereafter! Age does not blunt this fine emotion, 
for, as may often be remarked with some beautiful 
souls in the decline of bodily life, the resigning of 
earthly enjoyments gives them no pain, — and the 
sweet placidity of expectation, rather than the dull 



i86 FREE OPINIONS 

apathy of regret, is their chief characteristic. 
" Imaginary" love still beckons them on; — ^what 
has not been found Here will be found There ! 

Happy, and always to be envied, are those who 
treasure this aerial sentiment of the spiritual brain ! 
It is the dearest possession of every true artist. 
In every thought, in every creative work or plan, 
" imaginary " love goes before, pointing out won- 
ders unseen by less enlightened eyes, — hiding 
things unsightly, disclosing things lovely, and 
making the world fair to the mind in all seasons, 
whether of storm or calm. Intensifying every 
enjoyment, adding a double thrill to the notes of 
a sweet song, lending an extra glow to the sun- 
shine, an added radiance to the witchery of the 
moonlight, a more varied and exquisite colouring 
to the trees and flowers, a charm to every book, a 
delight to every new scene, " imaginary " love, a 
very sprite of enchantment, helps us to believe 
persistently in good, when those who love not at 
all, neither in reality nor In Idealization, are 
drowning in the black waters of suicidal despair. 

So it is well for us — those who can — to imagine 
" Imaginary " love ! We shall never grasp the 
Dream in this world — nevertheless let us fly after 
it as though it were a Reality ! Its path is one of 
sweetness more than pain, — its ways are devious, 
yet even In sadness still entrancing. Better than 
rank, better than wealth is this talisman, which 
with a touch brings us into close communication 
with the Higher worlds. Let us " imagine " our 



"IMAGINARY" LOVE 187 

friends are true; let us " Imagine " we are loved 
for our own sakes alone, — let us " Imagine," as we 
welcome our acquaintances Into our homes, that 
their smiles and greetings are sincere — let us 
imagine " Imaginary " love as the poets do, — a 
passion tender, strong and changeless — and pursue 
it always, even If the objects, which for a moment 
its passing wings have brushed, crumble Into dust 
beneath that touch of fire! So shall our lives 
retain the charm of constant Youth and Hope, — 
so shall the world seem always beautiful to us, — 
so shall the Unimaginable glory of the future 
Real-In-Love shine nearer every day in our faith- 
ful, fond pursuit of its flying Shadow ! 



THE ADVANCE OF WOMAN 

Follow Light and do the Right — for man can half control his 

doom — 
Till you find the deathless Angel seated in the vacant tomb! 

Tennyson, Locksley Hall, Sixty Years After. 

SIXTY years ago ! To us of the present day 
it seems a very long time — a kind of " dark 
ages " period wherein we peer backward 
dubiously, wondering what everybody was like 
then. History, taking us by the hand, shows us, 
as in a magic glass, the Coronation of Victoria, 
the greatest Queen of all queens that the world 
has ever known, and tells us of the great men and 
masterly intellects of that past time, whose immor- 
tal works we still have with us, but whose mere 
mortal place knows them no more. Much may 
be seen in the backward glimpse that some of us 
may possibly regret and wish that we possessed 
again. Men of power and dominance, for example 
— great writers, great thinkers, great reformers — 
surely we lack these ! Surely we need them sorely ! 
But it seems to be a rule of Nature that if we 
gain in one direction we must lose in another, and 
whatever we have lost in that far-gone period, 
we have certainly gained much in the forward 
direction. One of the most remarkable changes, 

x88 



THE ADVANCE OF WOMAN 189 

perhaps, that has taken place In the passing of 
the years Is, the different position assigned to 
Woman from that which she occupied when 
Dickens and Thackeray wrote their wonderful 
novels, and when Charlotte Bronte astonished the 
world by her woman's genius, to be followed by 
the still more powerful and Scott-like display of 
brain-power In Marian Evans (" George Eliot "). 
At that time men were still chivalrous. Woman 
was so rarely brilliant — or, shall we put It, she so 
rarely had the chance of asserting the brilliant 
qualities that are her natural endowment — that 
man was content to acknowledge any unusual 
talent on her part as an abnormal quality. Infre- 
quent enough to be safely admired. In this spirit, 
more or less. Sir Walter Scott paid tribute to Jane 
Austen, and Thackeray to Charlotte Bronte; but 
as time has progressed, and women have arisen 
one after another in the various departments of 
Art and Literature, men have begun to fall back 
and look askance, and somewhat threateningly, 
on the fair trespassers in their hitherto guarded 
domains. And the falling back and the looking 
askance continue in exact proportion to the swift 
and steady onward march of the white-robed 
Amazons Into the Battle of Life. Braced with 
the golden shield of Courage, helmeted with Pa- 
tience, and armed with the sword of Faith, the 
Woman-warriors are taking the field, and are to 
be seen now in massed ranks, daily marshalling 
themselves in more compact order, firm-footed 



I90 FREE OPINIONS 

and fearless, prepared to fight for Intellectual free- 
dom, and die rather than yield. They, too, will 
earn the right to live; they, too, will be something 
greater than the mere vessels of man's desire — 
whether maids, wives, or mothers, they will prove 
themselves worthy to be all these three, and more 
than these, to the very utmost extent of their 
moral and intellectual being ! 

Perhaps there is nothing more entertaining to 
the wit of a cultured and intelligent woman than 
the recurrent piping wail of man's assertion that 
" woman has no creative power." Her place, says 
the didactic male, is the kitchen, the nursery, and 
beside the cradle. Certes, she can manage these 
three departments infinitely better than he can, 
especially the cradle part of it, wherein his frac- 
tious disposition is generally well displayed the 
moment he starts in life. But, as a matter of 
fact, there is hardly any vocation in which she 
cannot, if she puts her mind to it, distinguish her- 
self just as easily and successfully as he can if he 
will only kindly stand out of her way. He makes 
himself ludicrous by persistently *' crying her 
down " when all the world en masse beholds her 
taking the highest University honours over his 
head, and beating him intellectually on his own 
ground. In physical force he certainly outstrips 
her. Item, he can kick her as heartily and skil- 
fully as he can kick a football, vide the daily police 
reports. Item, — he can eat and drink much more 
than she can, because he devotes a great deal more 



THE ADVANCE OF WOMAN 191 

time and attention to the study of gastronomy. 
Item, — he can smoke more. Item, — he can in- 
dulge freely In unbridled licentiousness, and amply 
prove his original savage right to be considered 
a polygamous animal, without being banned from 
" good society," or anything being said against 
his moral character. This a woman cannot do. 
If she has many lovers, her conduct Is severely 
criticized. But if she has none, she is still more 
bitterly condemned, especially if she happens to 
be in the least good-looking. And why? Simply 
because her indifference "reflects" on the male 
sex generally. The ugliest of masculine creatures 
experiences a vague sense of offence when he meets 
a charming woman who neither seeks his advice 
nor his company. And here we have the gist of 
the whole matter: man is a vain animal and wants 
to be admired. Like the peacock, he struts for- 
ward and spreads out his glittering tail. The 
central feature of the landscape, as he considers 
himself, he waits for the pea-hen to worship him. 
If, instead of the humble pea-hen, he finds another 
sort of bird entirely — ^with not only a tail as 
brilliant as his own, but wings which will carry It 
over his head, he Is mightily incensed, and his 
shrill cry of rage echoes through that particular 
part of the universe where he Is no longer 
"monarch of all he surveys." His "other 
world" must be pea-hens or none I 

And yet Man's delightful and utter want of the 
commonest logic is never more flagrantly exhibited 



192 FREE OPINIONS 

than In this vital matter of his estimate of Woman, 
taking It all round In a broad sense. Dally, hourly. 
In the household and In the market-place, he may 
be heard cheapening her abilities, sneering at such 
triumphs as she attains, cracking stale jests at her 
"love of gossip," "love of dress" (for he Is 
seldom original even In a joke), and her " Inces- 
sant tongue," blissfully Ignoring the fact that his 
own Is wagging all the time; and yet no one can 
twist him so limply and helplessly round the littlest 
of her little fingers as she can. Moreover, 
throughout all the ages, so far as the keenest 
explorer or historical student can discover, his 
highest Ideals of life have been depicted In the 
Feminine form. Fortune, Fame, Justice, the Arts 
and Sciences are all represented by female figures 
lovingly designed by male hands. Evidently con- 
scious In himself that a woman's purity, honesty, 
fidelity, and courage are nobler types of these 
virtues than his own, Man apparently Is never 
weary of Idealizing them as Woman womanly. 
Thoroughly aware of the supreme sovereignty 
Woman can exercise whenever he gives her the 
chance, he, while endeavouring to bind and hold 
her Intellectual forces by his various edicts and 
customs, takes ever an Incongruous satisfaction In 
doing her full justice by the magnitude of his 
feminine Ideals. The divine spirit of Nature 
itself, called " Egeria," Is always depicted by man 
as a woman. Faith, Hope and Charity, are repre- 
sented as female spirits, as are the Three Graces. 



THE ADVANCE OF WOMAN 193 

The Muses are women; so are the Fates. Hence, 
as all the virtues, morals, arts, and sciences are 
shown by the highest masculine skill as wearing 
woman's form and possessing woman's attributes, 
It is easy to see that man has always been per- 
fectly aware In his Inward Intelligence of Woman's 
true worth and right place In creation, though, 
by such laws as he has made for his own better 
convenience, he has put up whatever barriers he 
can In the way of the too swift advancement of 
so superior and victorious a creature. Now that 
she Is beginning to take an important share In 
the world's work and progress, he Is becoming 
vaguely alarmed. In each art, In each profession 
he sees her gaining step by step to higher Intellec- 
tual dominance. He watches her move from 
plane to plane of study, learning, as she goes, that 
the mere animalism of unthinking subservience 
to his passions is not her only heritage. And 
straightway the long-spoilt child begins to whim- 
per. "A woman has no creative power!" he 
cries. " No Imagination ! — no originality ! — no 
force of character! What she does In the Arts 

Is so very little ! " 

Stop, oh Man! You have had a very long, 
long Innings, remember ! From the time of Abra- 
ham, and ages before that worthy patriarch ever 
turned Hagar out into the wilderness, you have 
been setting Woman alongside your cattle, and 
curling your whip with a magnificent carelessness 
round both at your pleasure, yea! even offering 



194 FREE OPINIONS 

both with indifferent readiness for sale and barter. 
You have enjoyed centuries of liberty; It Is now 
woman's turn to taste the sweets of freedom. She 
does very little In the Arts, you say? I grant you 
that In the first of them, Poetry, she does little 
indeed. I do not think we shall ever have a 
female Shakespeare, for Instance. But, at the 
same time, I equally do not think we shall ever 
again have a male one ! Yet It Is to be admitted 
that none of the leading women poets can compare 
for an Instant with the leading men In that most 
divine and primaeval of Arts. But I should not 
like to assert that the great woman-Dante or 
woman-Shelley may not yet arise, for it Is to be 
borne in mind that woman's education and 
woman' chances have only just begun. In Music, 
again, she is deemed deficient. Yet we are con- 
fronted at the present day by the fact that many 
of the most successful and charming of song 
writers are women. And the following appears 
in the Dresden Neueste Nachricten (October i8, 
1902) : — 

" Up to the present date we have always enter- 
tained the opinion that the composition of music 
was a gift denied to the female sex, elegant trifles 
(as exceptions) only confirming our doubts. And 
now an English lady appears on the scene, amaz- 
ing the musical world of Dresden. She was as a 
young girl already a distinguished artist, a virtuoso 
on the piano, and played — as ' Miss Bright,' — 
under the direction of Dr. Wullner, a piano con- 



THE ADVANCE OF WOMAN 195 

certo of her own composition, with extraordinary 
success. The.n marriage separated her from her 
art for several years. Now (after the death of 
her husband), the young widow, Mrs. Knatchbull, 
has composed an opera — text, music, and instru- 
mentation all being her own work — and has 
brought it with her to Dresden. The music is so 
captivating, and above all, holds one so strongly 
that one exclaims in astonishment, ' Can this be 
the work of a woman? ' It is more than probable 
that the opera will be produced at the Dresden 
Opera House." 

Here followeth an instructive story: — A recent 
opera performed with considerable success at 
Monte Carlo and other Continental resorts is the 
work of a woman, stolen by a man. The facts 
are well known, as are the names of the hero and 
heroine of the sordid tragedy. A little love- 
making on the part of the male composer, who 
could show nothing of ability save the composition 
of a few amorous drawing-room songs — a confid- 
ing trust on the part of the woman-genius, whose 
brain was full of God-given melody — these were 
the motives of the drama. She played the score 
of her opera through to him — he listened with 
admiration — with words of tender flattery, pre- 
cious to her who was weak enough to care for such 
a rascal; and then he took it away to be " tran- 
scribed," as he said, and set out for the orchestra. 
He loved her, so the poor credulous soul thought ! 
— and she trusted him — such an old story! He 



196 FREE OPINIONS 

copied her opera in his own manuscript — stole it, 
in short, and left for the Continent, where he had 
it produced as his own composition. Had she 
complained, the law would have gone against her. 
She had no proof save that of her love. Be- 
fore a grinning, jesting court of law she would 
have had to publish the secret of her heart. 
People would have shaken their heads and said, 
" Poor thing ! A case of self-delusion and hys- 
teria! " He himself would have shaken his dirty 
pate and said, '' Poor soul ! Mad — quite mad ! 
Many women have had their heads turned like- 
wise for love of me! '^ So it chances that only 
those " in the know " are aware of the story, and 
the man-Fraud is left unmolested; but it is a 
curious and suggestive fact that he produces no 
more opears. 

There is one thing that women generally, in the 
struggle for intellectual free life, should always 
remember — one that they are too often apt to 
forget — namely, that the Laws, as they at present 
exist, are made by men, for men. There are no 
really stringent laws for the protection of women's 
interests except the Married Woman's Property 
Act, which is a great and needful boon. But take 
the following instances of the eccentricities of 
English law, both of which have come under my 
own knowledge as having occurred to personal 
friends. A certain foreign nobleman residing in 
England made a will leaving all his fortune to his 
mistress. His legitimate children were advised 



THE ADVANCE OF WOMAN 197 

to dispute the will, as under the law of his native 
country he could not dispossess his lawful heirs 
of their inheritance. He had not naturalized 
himself at any time as a British subject, and the 
plain proof of this was that but a year before his 
death, he had applied to the Government of his 
own country for permission to wear a certain 
decoration, which permission was accorded him. 
The nature of his application proved that he still 
considered himself a subject of his own native 
land. The case came before an English judge, 
who had apparently eaten some very Indisgestible 
matter for his luncheon. With an apoplectic 
countenance and an injured demeanour, the learned 
gentleman declined to go Into any of the details 
of the case, and administered " justice '' by de- 
ciding the whole thing on" a question of domi- 
cile " — namely, that as the man had lived in 
England twenty-five years, he was, naturalized or 
unnaturalized, a British subject and could make 
his will as he liked. The fortune was, therefore, 
handed over to his mistress, and the legal wife and 
legitimately-born children were left out In the cold I 
Another case Is that of a lady, well-born and well- 
educated, who married a man with a fortune of 
some twenty thousand a year. After the expira- 
tion of about fifteen years, when she had borne 
her husband three children, he suddenly took a 
fantastic dislike to her, and an equally fantastic 
liking for a chorus girl. He promptly sought a 
divorce. As there was no ground for divorce, 



198 FREE OPINIONS 

he failed to obtain It. He, therefore, adopted 
a course of action emanating entirely from 
his own brilliant brain. Starting for a cruise on 
board his yacht, in company with the bewildering 
chorus girl, he left orders with his solicitor to have 
the whole of his house dismantled of Its furniture 
and " cleared." This was promptly done, the 
wife and children being left without so much as a 
bed to lie upon or a chair to sit upon. The un- 
fortunate lady told her story to a court, and 
applied for " maintenance." This, of course, the 
recalcitrant husband was forced to pay, but the 
sum was cut down to the smallest possible amount, 
under the supervision of the blandly approving 
court, with the result that this man's wife, accus- 
tomed from her girlhood to every home comfort 
and care, now lives with her children In a condition 
of genteel penury more degrading than absolute 
poverty. There is no remedy for these things. 
One welcomes heartily the Idea of women lawyers, 
in the hope that when their keen, quick brains 
learn to grasp the huge, unwieldy, and complex 
machinery of the muddle called Legal Justice, they 
may, perhaps, be able to effect some reforms on 
behalf of their own sex. As matters at present 
stand, the unbridled and extravagant licentious- 
ness of men, and the consequent degradation of 
women, are protected by law. Even a fraudulent 
financial concern is so guarded by *' legal " advice 
that it would take the lifetime's earning of an 
honest man to bring about any exposure. We 



THE ADVANCE OF WOMAN 199 

want women lawyers — Portias, with quick brains, 
to see the way out of a difficulty into which men 
plunge only to flounder more hopelessly. " Can 
the blind lead the blind? Shall they not both fall 
into the ditch? " 

In medicine, women have made more than a 
decided mark of triumph. It is almost impossible 
to over-estimate the priceless value of the work 
done by women doctors and women surgeons in 
the harems of India and Turkey, where the selfish- 
ness and jealousy of the Eastern sybarite would 
give his women over to cruel agonies of disease 
and death, rather than suffer them to be so much 
as looked upon by another of his own sex. Yet, 
though perfectly conscious that Woman's work 
in this branch of science is day by day becoming 
more and more percious'to suffering humanity, 
we have quite recently been confronted by the 
spectacle of a number of men deciding to resign 
their appointments at a certain hospital, rather 
than suffer a woman to be nominated house-sur- 
geon. Her skill and efficiency were as great as 
theirs, and she had all the qualifications necessary 
for the post; but no! sooner than honour a 
woman's ability, they preferred to resign. Com- 
ment on this incident is needless, but it is one of 
the straws which show which way the wind blows. 
Much excellent work is done, and remains yet 
to be done by women, as inspectors of schools. 
They alone are really fitted for the task of ascer- 
taining the conditions under which children are 



200 FREE OPINIONS 

made to study, and they are not likely, while 
examining infant classes, to make such ponderous 
statements as that passed by a certain male 
inspector, who, according to an amusing story told 
me by Sir John Gorst, found the babies (not above 
five years old) *' deplorably deficient in mental 
arithmetic!" It takes a man to deplore *' lack 
of mental arithmetic " in a baby. A woman would 
never be capable of such weighty stupidity. Per- 
haps it will be just as well to glance casually at 
the state of things in this country respecting the 
education of mere infants, as arranged by certain 
laws drawn up by men, laws in which women, who 
are the mothers of the race, are not allowed to 
have a voice. 

1. The law allows them to enter at three years 
old, and compels them to enter at five years old. 

2. Men inspectors constantly examine children 
of four years old in arithmetic, and the " mental 
arithmetic of the baby class," Is constantly men- 
tioned in reports. 

3. Needlework is taught before five years old; 
two to three hours form the staple instruction. 
Needlework injures the eyesight at such a tender 
age, and two or three hours are a cruelty and a 
waste of time for tiny children. 

4. Desks, blackboards, slates and books are 
everywhere in excess of " Kindergarten " occupa- 
tions, and the " development of the spontaneous 
activity in the child " is twisted into the develop- 
ment of uniformity. To differ from the usual is 



THE ADVANCE OF WOMAN 201 

to be naughty; every one must do the same thing 
at the same. time. Every one must build a like 
house, a like table, a like chair; each brick must 
be on the table at the same minute. 

5. Despite male inspectors, the babies sleep. 
They fall off their seats and bump their foreheads 
against the desks, and their spines are twisted and 
crooked as they lie on their arms, heads forward, 
upon the hard supports. Curvature must be 
produced in many cases, solely from these causes- 

6. To maintain order, corporal punishment is 
habitual, and " fear " the chief motive for right- 
doing. To quote from a letter of Sir John 
Gorst's : — 

" The reform of this system is not a matter of 
sentiment. These babies are the future scholars 
of our Improved schools that the Education Bill 
is intended to produce, and the future citizens by 
whom our Imperial position is to be maintained. 
If we prematurely addle their Intellects by school- 
ing — for which their tender years are unfit; if 
we cripple their bodies by cooping them up in 
deforming desks; If we destroy their sight by 
premature needlework, and confuse their senses by 
over-study of subjects which they are too young 
to understand, we shall neither have fit scholars 
for our future schools, nor fit citizens to uphold 
the Empire." 

Starting on these premises It will surely be 
acknowledged that women have an indisputable 
right to be Inspectors of schools. They have the 



202 FREE OPINIONS 

natural instinct to know what is best for the health 
and well-being of children, and they are also 
capable of correctly judging by that maternal 
sympathy which is their Inherited gift, how a 
child's mental abilities should best be encouraged 
and trained. 

I have often been asked if I would like to see 
women in Parliament. I may say frankly, and at 
once, that I should detest It. I should not like to 
see the sex, pre-eminent for grace and beauty, 
degraded by having to witness or to take part in 
such " scenes " of heated and undignified disputa- 
tion as have frequently lowered the prestige of 
the House of Commons. On the same lines I 
may say that I do not care to see women playing 
" hockey " or indulging in any purely " tom-boy '* 
sports and pastimes. They lose " caste '* and 
individuality. One of the many brilliant and 
original remarks of mankind concerning the female 
sex is that women should be cooks and house- 
keepers. So they should. No woman is a good 
housekeeper unless she understands cooking, nor 
can she be a good cook unless she be a good house- 
keeper. The two things are inseparable, and 
combine to make comfort with economy. A 
woman should know how to cook and keep house 
for herself, not only for man. Man says to her : 
" Be a cook," — because of all things In the world 
he loves a good dinner; loves it better than his 
wife. Inasmuch as he will often " bully " the wife 
if the dinner fails. But a woman must also eat, 



THE ADVANCE OF WOMAN 203 

and she should learn to cook for her own comfort, 
quite apart from his. In the same way she should 
study housekeeping. If she lives a single life she 
win find such knowledge eminently useful. But 
to devote all her energy and attention to cooking 
and housekeeping, as most men would have her 
do, would be a waste of power and Intelligence. 
As well ask a great military hero to devote his 
entire time to the canteen. 

In breaking her rusty fetters, and stepping out 
Into the glorious liberty of the free, Woman has 
one great thing to remember and to strive for, — a 
thing that she is at present, in her newly emanci- 
pated condition, somewhat prone to forget. In 
claiming and securing intellectual equality with 
Man, she should ever bear in mind that such a 
position is only to be held by always maintaining 
and preserving as great an Unllkeness to him as 
possible in her life and surroundings. Let her 
Imitate him In nothing but Independence and 
individuality. Let her eschew his fashions In 
dress, his talk and his manners. A woman who 
wears "mannish" clothes, smokes cigars, rattles 
out slang, gambles at cards, and drinks brandy 
and soda on the slightest provocrtion, Is lost alto- 
gether, both as woman and man, and becomes 
sexless. But the woman whose dress is always 
becoming and graceful, whose voice is equable and 
tender, who enhances whatever beauty she pos- 
sesses by exquisite manner, unblemished reputation, 
and intellectual capacity combined, raises herself 



204 FREE OPINIONS 

not only to an equality with man, but goes so far 
above him that she straightway becomes the God- 
dess and he the Worshipper. This Is as It should 
be. Men adore what they cannot Imitate. There- 
fore when men are drunken, let women be sober; 
when men are licentious, let women be chaste; 
when men are turf-hunters and card-players, let 
women absent themselves from both the race- 
course and the gambling-table; and while placing 
a gentle yet firm ban on laxity In morals and dis- 
regard of the binding sanctity of family life, let 
them silently work on and make progress In every 
art, every profession, every useful handicraft, that 
they may not be dependent for home or livelihood 
on man's merely casual fancy or Idle whim. The 
mistake of Woman's progress up to the present, 
has been her slavish imitation of Man's often un- 
admlrable tastes, and a pathetic " going down " 
under his lofty disdain. Once grasp the fact that 
his disdain is not " lofty " but merely comic, and 
that his case is only that of the Distressful 
Peacock, hurt by indifference to his tall, things 
will right themselves. Nature has already en- 
dowed Women with the contrasting elements of 
beauty, delicacy, and soft charm, as opposed to 
man's frequent ugliness and roughness ; let Woman 
herself continue to emphasize the difference by 
bringing out her original and Individual qualities 
in all she does or attempts to do. Of course for 
a long time yet, Man will declare *^ feminine 
individuality " to be non-existent; but as we know 



THE ADVANCE OF WOMAN 205 

the quality Is as plain and patent as " masculine 
Individuality,," we have only to Insist upon It and 
assert It, and In due course It will be fully admitted 
and acknowledged. Meantime, while pressing on 
towards the desired goal. Woman must learn the 
chief lesson of successful progress, which is, not 
to copy Man, but to carefully preserve her beau- 
tiful Unllkeness to him In every possible way, 
so that, while asserting and gaining Intellectual 
equality with him, she shall gradually arrive at 
such ascendancy as to prove herself ever the finer 
and the nobler Creature. 



THE PALM OF BEAUTY 

IT would seem, according to the society press, 
that beauty is a very common article. Indeed, 
If we are to accept the Innocent ebullitions of 
the callow youths who drink beer and play skittles 
in the Social-Paragraph line of journalism, and 
who in their soft gullelessness are taken In and 
*' used " by certain ladles of a type resembling 
Miss Skeggs and Lady Blarney In the Vicar of 
Wakefield, we are bound to believe that beautiful 
women are as common as blackberries, only more 
so. In the columns devoted by newspaper editors 
to the meanderlngs of those Intelligent persons, 
male and female, who sign themselves as On- 
lookers, Observers, Butterflies, Little Tomtits, and 
what may be called *' I Spys!" generally, one 
hardly ever sees the name of a lady without the 
epithet " beautiful " tacked on to It, especially if 
the lady happens to have money. This Is curious, 
but true. And supposing the so-called Beautiful 
One has not only money, commonly speaking, but 
heaps of money, mines of money, she Is always 
stated to be " young " as well. The heavier the 
bullion, the more assured the youthfulness. If 
unkind Time shows her to be the mother of a 
family where the eldest sprout is some twenty 

206 



THE PALM OF BEAUTY 207 

odd years of age, the complaisant " I Spy " is 
equal to the. occasion and writes of her thus — 
" The beautiful Mrs. Juno-Athene brought her 
eldest girl, looking more like her sister than her 
mother." Whereat Mrs. Juno-Athene Is satis- 
fied, — everybody smiles, and all things are cosy 
and comfortable. If any one should dare to say, 
especially In print, that Mrs. Juno-Athene is not 
*' beautiful " at all, nor " youthful " in either 
looks or bearing, there would be ructions. Some- 
body would get into trouble. The " I Spy " might 
even be dismissed from his or her post of social 
paragraphist to the Daily Error. Heaven forbid 
that such a catastrophe should happen through the 
Indiscretion of a mere miserable truth-monger! 
Let Mrs. Juno-Athene be beautifully and eternally 
young, by all means, so long as she can afford to 
pay for it. The humbug of it is at any rate kindly 
and chivalrous, and does nobody any harm, while 
it puts money In the purse of the hardworking 
penster, who is compelled to deal delicately with 
these little social matters sometimes, or else rumi- 
nate on a dinner instead of eating it. 

Nevertheless, despite the " I Spys," and the 
perennial charms of Mrs. Juno-Athene, beauty is 
as rare and choice a thing as ever it was in the 
days of old when men went mad for it, and Greeks 
and Trojans fought for Helen, who, so some 
historians say, was past forty when her bewitching 
fairness set the soul of Troy on fire. A really 
beautiful woman is scarcely ever seen, not even in 



2o8 FREE OPINIONS 

Great Britain, where average good looks are 
pleasantly paramount. Prettiness, — the prettlness 
which is made up of a good skin, bright eyes, soft 
and abundant hair, and a supple figure, — is quite 
ordinary. It can be seen every day among bar- 
maids, shop girls, and milliners' mannequins. But 
Beauty — the divine and subtle charm which en- 
raptures all beholders, — the perfect form, united 
to the perfect face in which pure and noble thought 
is expressed in every feature, in every glance of 
eye, in every smile that makes a sweet mouth 
sweeter, — this is what we may search for through 
all the Isles of Britain, ay, and through Europe 
and America and the whole world besides, and 
seldom or never find it. 

Nine-tenths of the women who are styled " beau- 
tiful " by the society paragraphist, possess merely 
the average good looks; — the rest are generally 
more particularly distinguished by some single 
and special trait which may perchance be natural, 
and may equally be artificial, such as uncommon- 
coloured hair (which may be dyed), a brilliant 
complexion (which may be put on), or a marvel- 
lously " svelte " figure (which may be the happy 
result of carefully designed corsets, well pulled 
in). Most of the eulogized "beauties" of the 
Upper Ten to-day, have, or are able to get, suffi- 
cient money or credit supplied to them for dress- 
ing well, — and not only well, but elaborately and 
extravagantly, and dress is often the " beauty " 
instead of the woman. To judge whether the 



THE PALM OF BEAUTY 209 

woman herself is really beautiful without the 
modiste's assistance, it would be necessary to see 
her deprived of all her fashionable clothes. Her 
bought hair should be taken off and only the 
natural remainder left. She should be content to 
stand sans paint, sans powder, sans back coil, sans 
corsets, in a plain white gown, falling from her 
neck and shoulders to her feet, and thus cheaply, 
yet decently clad, submit herself to the gaze of her 
male flatterers in full daylight. How many of the 
*' beautiful " Mrs. Juno-Athenes or the " lovely " 
Lady Spendthrifts could stand such a test unflinch- 
ingly ? Yet the simplest draperies clothe the Greek 
marbles when they are clothed at all, and jewels 
and fripperies on the goddess Diana would make 
her grace seem vulgar and her perfection common. 
Beauty, real beauty, needs no " creator of cos- 
tume " to define it, but is, as the poets say, when 
unadorned, adorned the most. 

Now it is absolutely Impossible to meet with any 
" unadorned " sort of beauty in those circles of 
rank and fashion where the society paragraphist 
basks at his or her pleasure. On the contrary, 
there is so much over-adornment in vogue that, it 
is sometimes difficult to find the actual true colour 
and personality of certain ladies whose charms are 
daily eulogized by an obliging press. Layers of 
pearl enamel picked out with rouge, entirely con- 
ceal their human identity. It is doubtful whether 
there was ever more face-painting and " faking 
up" of beauty than there is now, — never did 



210 FREE OPINIONS 

beauty specialists and beauty doctors drive such 
a roaring trade. The profits of beauty-faking are 
enormous. Some idea of it may be gained by the 
fact that there is a certain shrewd and highly 
intelligent " doctor " in Paris, who, seeing which 
way the wind of fashion blows, brews a harmless 
little mixture of rose-water, eau-de-cologne, tinc- 
ture of benzoin and cochineal, which materials are 
quite the reverse of costly, and calling it by a 
pretty sobriquet, sells the same at twenty-five shil- 
lings a bottle! He is making a fortune out of 
woman's stupidity, is this good " doctor," and 
who shall blame him? Fools exist merely that the 
wise may use them. One has only to read the 
ladies' papers, especially the advertisements therein, 
to grasp a faint notion of what is being done to 
spur on the " beauty " craze. Yet beauty remains 
as rare and remote as ever, and often when we see 
some of the ladies whose " exquisite loveliness " 
has been praised for years in nearly every news- 
paper on this, or the other side of the Atlantic, 
we fall back dismayed, with a sense of the deepest 
disappointment and aggravation, and wonder 
what we have done to be so deceived? 

Taken in the majority, the women of Great 
Britain are supposed to hold the palm of beauty 
against all other women of the nations of the 
world, and if the word " beauty " be changed to 
prettiness, the supposition is no doubt correct. It 
is somewhat unfortunate, however, that either 
through the advice of their dressmakers or their 



THE PALM OF BEAUTY 211 

own erroneous conceptions of Form, they should 
appear to resent the soft outlines and gracious 
curves of nature, for either by the over-excess of 
their outdoor sports, or the undue compression of 
corsets, they are gradually doing away with their 
originally intended shapes and becoming as flat- 
chested as jockeys under training. No flat-chested 
woman is pretty. No woman with large hands, 
large feet, and the coarse muscular throat and 
jaw developed by constant bicycle-riding, can be 
called fascinating. The bony and resolute lady 
whose lines of figure run straight down without 
a curve anywhere from head to heel, may possibly 
be a good athlete, but her looks are by no means 
to her advantage. Men's hearts are not enthralled 
or captured by a Something appearing to be neither 
man nor woman. And there are a great many of 
these Somethings about just now. I am Ignorant 
as to whether American women go in for mannish 
sports as frequently and ardently as their British 
sisters, but I notice that they have daintier hands 
and feet, and less pronounced " muscle." 

At the same time American women on an aver- 
age, are not so pretty as British women on the 
same average. The American complexion is un- 
fortunate. Often radiant and delicate in earliest 
youth, it fades with maturity like a brilliant flower 
scorched by too hot a sun, and once departed 
returns no more. The clear complexion of British 
women is their best feature. The natural rose 
and white skin of an English, Irish or Scottish 



212 FREE OPINIONS 

girl, — especially a girl born and bred In the 
country, is wonderfully fresh and lovely and 
lasting, and often accompanies her right through 
her life to old age. That is, of course, if she 
leaves it alone, and is satisfied merely to keep it 
clean, without any " adornment '* from the beauty 
doctor. And, though steadily withholding the 
divine word " beauty " from the greater portion 
of the " beauties " at the Court of King Edward 
VII. it is unquestionably the fact that the prettiest 
women in the world are the British. Americans 
are likely to contest this. They will, as indeed in 
true chivalry they must, declare that their own 
" beauties " are best. But one can only speak 
from personal experience, and I am bound to say 
that I have never seen a pretty American woman 
pretty enough to beat a pretty British woman. 
This, with every possible admission made for the 
hard-working society paragraphlst, compelled to 
write of numerous " beautiful " Ladles So-and-So, 
and " charming " Mrs. Cashboxes, who, when one 
comes to look at them are neither " beautiful '* 
nor " charming " at all. 

But British feminine prettlness would be in- 
finitely more captivating than it is, if it were 
associated with a little extra additional touch of 
vivacity and Intelligence. When it is put in the 
shade (as frequently happens), by the sparkling 
allurements of the Viennese coquette, the graceful 
savoir faire of the French mondaine, or the entic- 
ing charm of lustrous-eyed sirens from southern 



THE PALM OF BEAUTY 213 

Italy, It IS merely because of its lack of wit. It 
is a good thing to have a pretty face; but if the 
face be only like a wax mask, moveless and ex- 
pressionless, it soon ceases to attract. The loveli- 
est picture would bore us if we had to stare at it 
dumbly all day. And there is undeniably a stiff- 
ness, a formality, and often a most repellent and 
unsympathetic coldness about the British fair sex, 
which re-acts upon the men and women of other 
more warm-hearted and impulsive nations, in a 
manner highly disadvantageous to the ladies of 
our Fortunate Isles. For it is not real stiffness, 
or real formality after all, — nor is it the snowy 
chill of a touch-me-not chastity, by any means, — 
It is merely a most painful, and in many cases 
absurd self-consciousness. British women are al- 
ways more or less wondering what their sister 
women are thinking about them. They can man- 
age their men all right; but they put on curious 
and unbecoming airs directly other feminine in- 
fluences than their own come into play. They 
invite the comment of the opposite sex, but they 
dread the criticism of their own. The awkward 
girl who sits on the edge of a chair with her feet 
scraping the carpet and her hands twiddling 
uneasily in her lap, is awkward simply because she 
has, by some means or other, been made self- 
conscious, — and because, in the excess of this self- 
consciousness she stupidly imagines every one in 
the room must be staring at her. The average 
London woman, dressed like a fashion-plate, who 



214 FREE OPINIONS 

rustles in at afternoon tea, with her card-case well 
in evidence, and her face carefully set in proper 
" visiting lines," offers herself up in this way as a 
subject for the satirist, out of the same disfiguring 
self-consciousness, which robs her entirely of the 
indifferent ease and careless grace which should, — 
to quote the greatest of American philosophers, 
Emerson, — cause her to '' repel interference by a 
decided and proud choice of influences," and to 
'* inspire every beholder with something of her 
own nobleness." She is probably not naturally 
formal, — she is no doubt exceedingly constrained 
and uncomfortable in her fashionable attire, — 
and one may take it for granted that she would 
rather be herself than try to be a Something which 
is a Nothing. But Custom and Convention are 
her bogie men, always guarding her on either side, 
and investing her too often with such deplorable 
self-consciousness that her eye becomes furtive, 
her mouth hard and secretive, her conversation 
inane, and her whole personality an uncomfortable 
exhalation of stupidity and dulness. 

Nevertheless, setting Custom and Convention 
apart for the nonce, and bidding them descend 
into the shadows of hypocrisy which is their native 
atmosphere, the British woman remains the pret- 
tiest in the world. What a galaxy of feminine 
charms can be gathered under the word " Brit- 
ish " I England, Ireland, Wales and Scotland 
offer all together such countless examples of 
woman's loveliness, that it would be difficult, if 



THE PALM OF BEAUTY 215 

not Impossible, to give the prize for good looks to 
one portion, of Britain more than to the other. 
America, so far as her samples have been, and are, 
seen in Europe, cannot outrival the " Old Coun- 
try " in the prettiness of its women. But it is 
prettiness only; not Beauty. Beauty remains in- 
trinsically where it was first born and first admitted 
into the annals of Art and Literature. Its home is 
still in " the Isles of Greece, where burning Sappho 
loved and sung." 

Nothing that was ever created In the way of 
female loveliness can surpass the beauty of a beau- 
tiful Greek woman. True, she is as rare as a but- 
terfly in a snow storm. True, the women of 
Athens and of Greece generally, taken in the rough 
majority, are not on an average, even pretty. 
Nevertheless the palm of beauty remains with 
them — because there are always two, — or may be 
three of them, who dawn year by year upon the 
world in all the old perfection of the classic mod- 
els, and who may truly be taken for newly-de- 
scended goddesses, so faultlessly formed, so 
exquisitely featured are they. They are not 
famed by the paragraphist, and they probably will 
never get the chance of moving in the circles of 
the British '^ Upper Ten " or the American " Four 
Hundred." But they are the daughters of Aphro- 
dite still, and hold fast their heavenly mother's 
attributes. It Is easy to find a hundred or more 
pretty British and American women for one beau- 
tiful Greek — but when found, the beautiful Greek 



2i6 FREE OPINIONS 

eclipses them all. She is still the wonder of the 
world, — the crown of womanly beauty at its best. 
She shows the heritage of her race in her regal step 
and freedom of movement, — in the lovely curves 
of her figure, in the classic perfection of her face 
with its broad brows, lustrous eyes, arched sweet 
lips and delicate contour of chin and throat, and 
perhaps more than all in the queenly indifference 
she bears towards her own loveliness. So, 

Fill high the bowl with Saraian wine, 
On Suli's bank and Parga's shore, 

Exists the remnant of a line 

Such as the Doric mothers bore ; 

And there perhaps some seed is sown 

The Heracleidan blood might own! 

And there still may be found the perfection of 
womanhood — the one rare Greek lily, which blos- 
soming at few and far intervals shows in its ex- 
quisite form and colouring what Woman should 
be at her fairest. To her, therefore, must be 
given the Palm of Beauty. But after the lily, then 
the rose! — or rather the roses, multitudinous, va- 
ried, and always sweet — of the Fortunate Isles of 
Britain. - 



THE MADNESS OF CLOTHES 

TO dress well is a social duty. Every edu- 
cated, self-respecting woman Is bound to 
clothe her person as neatly, as tastefully 
and becomingly as she can. But just as a virtue 
when carried to excess develops into a vice, so the 
art of dressing well, when allowed to overstep itSj 
legitimate uses and expenditure, easily runs into' 
folly and madness. The reckless extravagance of! 
women's dress at the present day is little short of 
criminal Insanity. A feverish desire to outvie one 
another In the manner and make of their garments 
appears to possess every feminine creature whose 
lot in life places her outside positive penury. The 
Inordinately wealthy, the normally rich, the well- 
to-do middle class and the shabby genteel are all 
equally Infected by the same hysterical frenzy. 
And It Is a frenzy which Is humoured and encour- 
aged on all sides by those who should have the 
sense, the Intelligence and the foresight to realize 
the danger of such a tendency, and the misery to 
which In many cases It is surely bound to lead. 

Latterly there have been certain growllngs and 
mutterlngs of discontent from husbands who have 
had to pay certain unexpectedly long bills for their 
wives' *^ creations In costume " — ^but, as a matter 

217 



2i8 FREE OPINIONS 

of fact, It Is really the men who are chiefly to 
blame for the wicked waste of money they after- 
wards resent and deplore. They are the principal 
Instigators of the mischief, — the aiders and abet- 
tors of the destruction of their own credit and good 
name. For they openly show their admiration 
for women's clothes more than for the women 
clothed, — that is to say, they are more easily cap- 
tured by art than by nature. No group of male 
flatterers is ever seen round a woman whose dress 
is un-stylish or otherwise " out-of-date." She may 
have the sweetest face in the world, the purest 
nature and the truest heart, but the " dressed " 
woman, the dyed, the artistically " faked " woman 
will nearly always score a triumph over her so far 
as masculine appreciation and attention are con- 
cerned. 

The " faked " woman has everything on her 
side. The Drama supports her. The Press en- 
courages her. Whole columns in seemingly sane 
journals are devoted to the description of her 
attire. Very little space is given to the actual 
criticism of a new play as a play, but any amount 
of room Is awarded to glorified " gushers " con- 
cerning the actresses' gowns. Of course it has to be 
borne In mind that the " writing up " of actresses' 
gowns serves a double purpose. Firstly, the 
" creators " of the gowns are advertised, and may 
in their turn advertise, — which In these days of 
multitudinous rival newspapers, is a point not to 
be lost sight of. Secondly, the actresses themselves 



THE MADNESS OF CLOTHES 219 

are advertised and certain gentlemen with big 
noses who- move " behind the scenes," and are the 
lineal descendants of Moses and Aaron, may 
thereby be encouraged to speculate In theatrical 
*' shares." Whereas criticism of the play Itself 
does no good to anybody nowadays, not even to 
the dramatic author. For If such criticism be 
unfavourable, the public say It Is written by a spite- 
ful enemy, — If eulogistic, by a " friend at court," 
and they accept neither verdict. They go to see 
the thing for themselves and If they like It they 
keep on going. If not, they stay away, and there's 
an end. 

But to the gowns there Is no end. The gowns, 
even In an ww-successful play, are continuously 
talked of, continuously written about, continuously 
sketched In every sort of pictorial, small and great, 
fashionable or merely provincial. And the florid 
language, — or shall we say the '* fine writing " ? — 
used to describe clothes generally, on and off the 
stage. Is so ravlngly sentimental, so bewllderlngly 
turgid, that It can only compare with the fervid 
verbosity of the early eighteenth century roman- 
cists, or the biting sarcasm of Thackery's Book of 
Snobs, from which the following passage, descrip- 
tive of " Miss Snobky's " presentation gown, may 
be aptly quoted: — 

*' Habit de Cour composed of a yellow nankeen 
illusion dress, over a slip of rich pea-green cordu- 
roy, trimmed en tablier with bouquets of Brussels 
sprouts, the body and sleeves handsomely trimmed 



220 FREE OPINIONS 

with callmanco, and festooned with a pink train 
and white radishes. Head-dress, carrots and lap- 
pets." 

By way of a modern pendant to the above 
grotesque suggestion, one extract from a lengthy 
*' clothes " article recently published in a daily 
paper will suffice : 

" Among the numerous evening and dinner 
gowns that the young lady has in her corbeille, 
one, a I'Imperatrice Eugenie, is very lovely. The 
foundation is of white Liberty, with a tulle over- 
dress on which are four flounces of Chantilly lace 
arranged in zig-zags, connected together with 
shaded pink gloria ribbons arranged in waves and 
wreaths. This is repeated on the low corsage and 
on the long drooping sleeves of the high bodice. 

*' A richer toilette is of white Liberty silk, with 
a flounce of magnificent Brussels lace festooned by 
leaves of the chestnut, formed of white satin 
wrought in iris beads and silver on white tulle. 
The whole gown is strewn with like leaves of 
graduating sizes, and the low corsage has a berthe 
of Brussels lace ornamented with smaller chestnut 
leaves as are also the sleeves." And so on, in 
unlimited bursts of enthusiasm. 

I cannot say I am in the least sorry when 
" modistes " who " create " costumes at forty, fifty 
and even one hundred and two hundred guineas 
per gown, are mulcted of some of their unlawful 
profits by defaulting creditors. In nine cases out 
of ten they richly deserve it. They are rightly 



THE MADNESS OF CLOTHES 221 

punished, when they accept, with fulsome flattery 
and servile- obsequiousness a " title " as sufficient 
guarantee for credit, and in the end find out that 
Her Grace the Duchess, or Miladi the Countess 
is perhaps more wickedly reckless and unprincipled 
than any plain Miss or Mrs. ever born, and that 
these grandes dames frequently make use of both 
rank and position to cheat their tradespeople 
systematically. The tradespeople are entirely to 
blame for trusting them, and this is daily and con- 
tinuously proved. But the touching crook-knee'd 
worship of mere social rank still remains an ingre- 
dient of the mercantile nature, — it is inborn and 
racial, — a kind of microbe in the blood generated 
there in old feudal times, when, all over the world, 
pedlars humbly sought the patronage and favour 
of robber chieftains, and unloaded their packs in 
the " Castle hall " for the pleasure of the fair 
ladies who were kept at home in " durance vile " 
by their rough, unwashen lords. And so perhaps 
It has chanced through long custom and heritage, 
that at this present day there is nothing quite so 
servile in all creation as the spectacle of the 
" modiste " in attendance on a Duchess, or a 
" ladies' tailor " bending himself double while 
deferentially presuming to measure the hips of a 
Princess. It is quaint, — it is pitiful, — it is in- 
tensely, deliciously comic. And when the price of 
the garment is never clearly stated, and the bill 
never sent in for years lest offence is given to " Her 
Grace " or " Her Highness " — ^by firms that will, 



222 FREE OPINIONS 

nevertheless, have no scruple In sending dunning 
letters and legal threats to un-tithd ladles who 
may possibly keep them waiting a little for their 
money, but whose position and credit are more 
firmly established than those of any " great '* per- 
sonages with handles to their names, It Is not with- 
out a certain secret satisfaction that one hears of 
such fawning flunkeys of trade getting well burnt 
In the fires of loss and disaster. For in any case. 
It may be taken for granted that they always 
charge a double, sometimes treble price for a 
garment or costume, over and above what that 
garment or costume Is really worth, and one may 
safely presume they base all their calculations on 
possible loss. It Is no uncommon thing to be told 
that such and such an evening blouse or bodice 
copied " from the Paris model " will cost Forty 
Guineas — " We inight possibly do it for Thirty 
Five," — says the costumier meditatively, studying 
with well-assumed gravity the small, flimsy object 
he is thus pricing, a trifle made up of chiffon, rib- 
bon, and tinsel gew-gaws, knowing all the while 
that everything of which it is composed could be 
purchased for much less than ten pounds. Twenty- 
five guineas, forty-five guineas, sixty-five guineas 
are quite common prices for gowns at any of the 
fashionable shops to-day. One cannot, of course, 
blame the modistes and outfitting firms for asking 
these absurd fancy prices if they can get them. 
If women are mad it Is perhaps wise, just and 
reasonable to take financial advantage of their 



THE MADNESS OF CLOTHES 223 

madness while It lasts. Certainly no woman of 
well-balanced brain would give unlimited prices 
for gowns without most careful Inquiry as to the 
correct value of the material and trimming used 
for them, — and the feminine creature who runs 
into the elaborate show-rooms of Madame Zoe or 
Berenice, or Faustina, and orders frocks by the 
dozen, saying chlrplngly: "Oh, yes! You know 
how they ought to be made ! Your taste Is always 
perfect! Make them very pretty, won't you? — 
much prettier than those you made for Lady Clar- 
Ibel! Yes! — thanks! I'll leave It all In your 
hands ! " this woman, I say Is a mere lunatic, gib- 
bering nonsense, who could not. If she were asked, 
tell where twice two making four might possibly 
lead her In the sum-total of a banking account. 

Not very long ago there was held a wonderful 
" symposium " of dress at the establishment of a 
certain modiste. It was Intensely diverting, enter- 
taining and Instructive. A stage was erected at 
one end of a long room, and on that stage, with 
effective flashes of llme-llght played from the 
" wings " at Intervals, and the accompaniment 
of a Hungarian band, young ladles wearing 
" creations " In costume, stood, sat, turned, twisted 
and twirled, and finally walked down the room 
between rows of spectators to show themselves 
and the gowns they carried, off to the best possible 
advantage. The whole thing was much better 
than a stage comedy. Nothing could surpass the 
quaint peacock-like vanity of the girl mannequins 



tiH FREE OPINIONS 

who strutted up and down, moving their arms 
about to exhibit their sleeves and swaying their 
hips to accentuate the fall and flow of flounces 
and draperies. It was a marvellous sight to behold, 
and it irresistibly reminded one of a party of 
impudent children trying on for fun all their 
mother's and elder sisters' best " long dresses " 
while the unsuspecting owners were out of the 
way. There was a " programme " of the per- 
formance fearfully and wonderfully worded, the 
composition, so we were afterwards " with bated 
breath " informed, of Madame la Modiste's sis- 
ter, a lady, who by virtue of having written two 
small skits on the manners, customs and modes of 
society, is, in some obliging quarters of the Press 
called a " novelist." This programme instructed 
us as to the proper views we were expected to 
take of the costumes paraded before us, as follows : 

FOR THE DINNER PARTY 

Topas 

Elusive Joy 

Pleasure's Thrall 

Red Mouth of a Venomous Flower 

The " Red Mouth of a Venomous Flower " was 
a harmless-looking girl in a bright scarlet toilette, 
— neither the toilette nor the sensational title 
suited her. But perhaps the '' Cult of Chiffon " 
presented the most varied and startling phases to 
a properly receptive mind. Thus it ran: 



THE MADNESS OF CLOTHES 225 
THE CULT OF CHIFFON 

The Dirge O'er the Death of Pleasure 

The Fire Motif 

The Meaning of Life Is Clear , 

Moss and Starlight 

Incessant Soft Desire 

A Frenzied Song of Amorous Things 

A Summer Night Has a Thousand Powers 

Faint gigglings shook the bosoms of the profane 
as the " Incessant Soft Desire " glided Into view, 
followed by " A Frenzied Song of Amorous 
Things," — Indeed It would have been positively- 
unnatural and Inhuman had no one laughed. 
Curious to relate, there were quite a large number 
of " gentlemen " at this remarkable exhibition of 
feminine clothes, many of them well-known and 
easily recognizable. Certain flaneurs of Bond 
Street, various loafers familiar to the Carlton 
" lounge," and celebrated PIcadllly-trotters, 
formed nearly one half of the audience, and stared 
with easy Insolence at the " Red Mouth of a 
Venomous Flower " or smiled suggestively at 
" Incessant Soft Desire." They were Invited to 
stare and smile, and they did It. But there was 
something remarkably offensive In their way of 
doing It, and perhaps if a few thick boots worn on 
the feet of rough but honest workmen had come 
into contact with their smooth personalities on their 
way out of Madame Modiste's establishment, it 
might have done them good and taught them a 



226 FREE OPINIONS 

useful lesson. Needless to say that the prices of 
the Madame Modiste who could set forth such an 
exhibition of melodramatically designated fem- 
inine apparel as '' The Night has a Thousand 
Eyes," or " Spring's Delirium," were in suitable 
proportion to a '' frenzied song of amorous 
things." Such amorous things as are '' created " 
in her establishment are likely to make husbands 
and fathers know exactly what " a frenzied song " 
means. When the payment of the bills Is con- 
cerned, they will probably sing that " frenzied 
song " themselves. 

It is quite easy to dress well and tastefully with- 
out spending a very great deal of money. It cer- 
tainly requires brain — thought — foresight — taste 
— and comprehension of the harmony of colours. 
But the blind following of a fashion because 
Madame This or That says It is " chic " or " le 
dernier cri," or some parrot-like recommendation 
of the sort, is mere stupidity on the part of the fol- 
lowers. To run up long credit for dresses, without 
the least idea how the account is ever going to be 
paid, Is nothing less than a criminal act. It is 
simply fraud. And such fraud re-acts on the 
whole community. 

Extravagant taste In dress Is Infectious. Most 
of us are Impressed by the King's sensible and 
earnest desire that the Press should use its influ- 
ence for good in fostering amity between ourselves 
and foreign countries. If the Press would equally 
use its efforts to discourage florid descriptions of 



THE MADNESS OF CLOTHES 227 

dress in their columns, much of the wild and 
wilful extravagance which is frequently the ruin of 
otherwise happy homes, might be avoided. When 
Lady A sees her loathed rival Lady B's dress 
described in half a column of newspaper " gush " 
she straightway yearns and schemes for a whole 
column of the same kind. When simple country 
girls read the amazing items of the " toilettes " 
worn by some notorious *' demi-mondaine," they 
begin to wonder how it is she has such things, and 
to speculate as to whether they will ever be able 
to obtain similar glorified apparel for themselves. 
And so the evil grows, till by and bye it becomes 
a pernicious disease, and women look supercili- 
ously at one another, not for what they are, but 
merely to estimate the quality and style of what 
they put on their backs. ' Virtue goes to the wall 
if it does not wear a fashionable frock. Vice is 
welcomed everywhere if it is clothed in a Paris 
" creation." Nevertheless, Ben Jonson's lines still 
hold good: 

Still to be neat, still to be drest, 

As you were going to a feast; 

Still to be powder'd, still perfumed: 

Lady, it is to be presumed, 

Though art's hid causes are not found 

All is not sweet, all is not sound. 

"All is not sweet, all is not sound '' when 
women think little or nothing of ordering extrava- 
gant costumes which they well know they will 
never be able to pay for, unless through some dis- 
honourable means, such as gambling at Bridge for 



228 FREE OPINIONS 

example. Madame Modiste is quite prepared for 
such an exigency, for she does not forget to show 
" creations '* in clothes which, she softly purrs, 
are " suitable for Bridge parties.'^ They may 
possibly be called — " The Tricky Trump " — or 
*' The Dazzling of a Glance too long " or " The 
Deft Impress of a Finger nail " ! One never 
knows ! 

Any amount of fashion papers find their way 
into the average British household, containing 
rabid nonsense such as the following: 

" There were wonderful stories afloat about 
Miss B's dresses. Rumour has it that a dress- 
maker came over especially from New York to 
requisition the services of the most important 
artistes in Paris, and gold lace and hand embroi- 
dery were used with no frugal hand; yet, despite 
this and the warm welcome accorded her by an 
English audience. Miss B does not seem to have 
made up her mind to stay with us long, for it is 
said the end of June will see the end of her season. 
We have sketched her in her pink chiffon wrap, 
which is made in the Empire shape covered with 
chiffon and decorated with bunches of chiffon 
flowers and green leaves held with bows of pink 
satin — a most dainty affair full of delicate detail 
and pre-eminently becoming." 

"Despite this," — is rich indeed I Despite the 
fact that " gold lace and hand-embroidery " were 
used " with no frugal hand," Miss B is determined 
to leave " the gay, the gay and glittering scene," 



THE MADNESS OF CLOTHES 229 

and deprive us of her " pink chiffon wrap in the 
Empire shape " ! A positively disastrous conclu- 
sion! Nay, but hearken to the maudlin murmurs 
of the crazed worshippers of Mumbo-Jumbo 
" Fashion "— 

*' Do you yearn for a grey muslin dress? Half 
my ' smart girl ' acquaintances are buying grey 
muslins as though their lives depended on it. I 
fell in love with one of them that was in bouillone 
gathers all round the skirt to within eight inches of 
the hem, while the yoke had similar but smaller 
bouillones run through, well below the shoulder- 
line, with a wide chine ribbon knotted low in front. 
Beneath this encircling ribbon the bodice pouched 
in blouse fashion over a chine waist-ribbon to 
match, with long pendant ends one side ; the sleeves 
were a distinct novelty, being set in a number of 
small puffs below one big one, a chine ribbon being 
knotted around the arm between each puff." 

" Do you ' yearn * for a grey muslin dress? " 
O ye gods! One is reminded of a comic passage 
In the " Artemus Ward " papers, ,where it Is 
related how a lady of the " Free Love " persua- 
sion rushed at the American humorist, brandish- 
ing a cotton umbrella and crying out: " Dost thou 
not yearn for me? " to which adjuration Artemus 
replied, while he " dodged " the umbrella — " Not 
a yearn ! '* 

" I should like," — says one of the poor Imbecile 
" dress " devotees, " the skirt finished off with a 
wadded hem, or perhaps a few folds of satin, but 



230 FREE OPINIONS 

otherwise it should be left severely plain. These 
satin, brocade, or velvet dresses should stand or 
fall by their own merits, and never be over- 
elaborated." 

True ! And is it " a wadded hem '' or a padded 
room that should " finish off " these people who 
spread the madness of clothes far and wide till 
it becomes a positively dangerous and Immoral 
infection? One wonders! For there Is no more 
mischievous wickedness In society to-day than the 
flamboyant, exuberant, wilful extravagance of 
women's dress. It has far exceeded the natural 
and pretty vanity of permissible charm, good taste 
and elegance. It has become a riotous waste, — 
an ugly disease of moral principle, ending at last 
in the disgrace and death of many a woman's good 
name. 



THE DECAY OF HOME LIFE 
IN ENGLAND 

WHEN people tell the truth they are gen- 
erally disliked. From Socrates, to the 
latest of his modern philosophic imita- 
tors, the bowl of death-dealing hemlock has always 
been mixed by the world and held to the lips of 
those who dare to say uncomfortably plain things. 
When the late W. E. H. Lecky set down the truth 
of Cecil Rhodes, in his book entitled The Map of 
Life, and I, the present writer, ventured to quote 
the passage in ^' The Vulgarity of Wealth," a 
number of uninformed individuals rashly accused 
me of " abusing Cecil Rhodes." They were natur- 
ally afraid to attack the great writer. Inasmuch, 
said they: "If Mr. Lecky had really suggested 
that Cecil Rhodes was not, like Brutus, * an hon- 
ourable man,' he, Mr. Lecky, would never have 
received the King's new * Order of Merit,' nor 
would Mr. Rhodes have been the subject of so 
much eulogy. For, of course, the King has read 
The Map of Life, and is aware of the assertions 
contained in it." Now I wish, dear gossips all, 
you would read The Map of Life for yourselves I 
You will find, if you do, not only plain facts con- 
cerning Rhodes, and the vulgarity, i.e. the osten- 
tation of wealth, but much useful information on 
sundry other matters closely concerning various 

231 



232 FREE OPINIONS 

manners and costumes of the present day. For 
one example, consider the following: 

" The amount of pure and almost spontaneous 
malevolence In the world Is probably far greater 
than we at first Imagine. . . . No one, for 
example, can study the anonymous press, without 
perceiving how large a part of It Is employed 
systematically, persistently and deliberately In fos- 
tering class, or Individual or International hatreds, 
and often in circulating falsehoods to attain this 
end. Many newspapers notoriously depend for 
their existence on such appeals, and more than any 
other Instruments, they Inflame and perpetuate 
those permanent animosities which most endanger 
the peace of mankind. The fact that such news- 
papers are becoming in many countries the main 
and almost exclusive reading of the million, forms 
the most serious deduction from the value of 
modern education.'* 

Let It be noted, once and for all, that it is not 
the present writer who thus speaks of " the anony- 
mous press," but the experienced, brilliant and 
unprejudiced scholar who was among the first to 
hold the King's " Order of Merit." And so once 
again to our muttons: — 

" Some of the very worst acts of which man can 
be guilty are acts which are commonly untouched 
by law, and only faintly censured by opinion. 
Political crimes, which a false and sickly sentiment 
so readily condones, are conspicuous among them. 
Men who have been gambling for wealth and 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 233 

power with the lives and fortunes of multitudes; 
men who for their own personal ambition are pre- 
pared to sacrifice the most vital Interests of their 
country; men, who In time of great national dan- 
ger and excitement deliberately launch falsehood 
after falsehood In the public press, In the well- 
founded conviction that they will do their evil 
work before they can be contradicted, may be met 
shameless and almost uncensured In Parliaments 
and drawing-rooms. The amount of false state- 
ments In the world which cannot be attributed to 
mere carelessness, Inaccuracy or exaggeration, but 
which Is plainly both deliberate and malevolent, 
can hardly be overrated. Sometimes It Is due to a 
mere desire to create a lucrative sensation, or to 
gratify a personal dislike, or even to an unpro- 
voked malevolence which takes pleasure In Inflict- 
ing pain. . . . Very often It (i. e, the 
false statement in the press) is Intended for pur- 
poses of stock-jobbing. The financial world is 
percolated with It. It Is the common method of 
raising or depreciating securities, attracting Invest- 
ors, preying upon the ignorant and credulous, and 
enabling dishonest men to rise rapidly to fortune. 
When the prospect of speedy wealth is in sight, 
there are always numbers who are perfectly pre- 
pared to pursue courses involving the utter ruin of 
multitudes, endangering the most serious inter- 
national interests, perhaps bringing down upon the 
world all the calamities of war. . . . It is much 
to be questioned whether the greatest criminals 



234 FREE OPINIONS 

are to be found within the walls of prisons. Dis- 
honesty on a small scale nearly always finds its 
punishment. Dishonesty on a gigantic scale con- 
tinually escapes. ... In the management of 
companies, in the great fields of industrial enter- 
prise and speculation, gigantic fortunes are acquired 
by the ruin of multitudes; and by methods which 
though they avoid legal penalties are essentially 
fraudulent. In the majority of cases these crimes 
are perpetrated by educated men who are in pos- 
session of all the necessaries, of most comforts, and 
of many luxuries of life, and some of the worst of 
them are powerfully favoured by the conditions 
of modern civilization. There Is no greater scan- 
dal or moral evil In our time than the readiness 
with which public opinion excuses them, and the 
influence and social position It accords to mere 
wealth, even when it has been acquired by notor- 
ious dishonesty, or when it Is expended with 
absolute selfishness or in ways that are absolutely 
demoralizing. In many respects the moral prog- 
ress of mankind seems to me incontestable, but 
It Is extremely doubtful whether In this respect, 
social morality, especially in England and America, 
has not seriously retrograded." 



Now had I written the foregoing lines, some 
hundred or so of pleasant newspaper friends 
would have accused me of *' screaming " out a 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 235 
denunciation of wealth, or of " railing " against 
society. But as Lecky — with the King's " Order 
of Merit," appended to his distinguished name,— 
was the real author of the quotation, I am not 
without hope that his views may be judged worthy 
of consideration, even though his works may not 
be as thoughtfully studied as their excellence 
merits. It is not I— it was Mr. Lecky, who 
doubted whether '' social morality both m Eng- 
land and America, had not seriously retro- 
graded." But, if it has so retrograded, there need 
be very little difficulty In tracing the retrogression 
to its direct source,— namely, to the carelessness, 
vanity, extravagance, lack of high principle, and 
entire lapse of dignity in the women who constitute 
and lead what is called the Smart Set. These 
women cannot be termed as of the Aristocracy, for 
the Aristocracy, (by which term I mean those who 
are lineally entitled to be considered the actual 
British nobility, and not the mushroom creations 
of yesterday), will, more often than not, decline 
to have anything to do with them. True, there are 
some " great " ladles, who have deliberately and 
voluntarily fallen from their high estate in the 
sight of a scandalized public, and who, by birth 
and breeding, should assuredly have possessed 
more pride and self-respect, than to wilfully de- 
scend into the mire. But the very fact that these 
few have so lamentably failed to support the 
responslbUltles of their position, makes it all the 
sadder for the many good and true women of 



236 FREE OPINIONS 

noble family who endeavour, as best they may, 
to stem the tide of harmful circumstance, and to 
show by the retired simplicity and intellectual 
charm of their own lives, that though society is 
fast becoming a disordered wilderness of American 
and South African " scrub " there yet remains 
within it a flourishing scion of the brave old Eng- 
lish Oak of Honour, guarded by the plain device 
'' Noblesse Oblige.'^ 

The influence of women bears perhaps more 
strongly than any other power on the position and 
supremacy of a country. Corrupt women make 
a corrupt State, — noble. God-fearing women make 
a noble. God-fearing people. It is not too much 
to say that the prosperity or adversity of a nation 
rests in the hands of its women. They are the 
mothers of the men, — they make and mould the 
characters of their sons. And the centre of their 
influence should be, as Nature intended it to be, 
the Home. Home is the pivot round which the 
wheel of a country's highest statesmanship should 
revolve, — the preservation of Home, its interests, 
Its duties and principles, should be the aim of every 
good citizen. But with the " retrogression of 
social morality," as Mr. Lecky phrased it, and as 
part and parcel of that backward action and move- 
ment, has gone the gradual decay of home life, 
and a growing indifference to home as a centre of 
attraction and influence, together with the under- 
mining of family ties and affections, which, rightly 
used and considered, should form the strongest 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 237 

bulwark to our national strength. The love of 
home, — the ' desire to make a home, — is far 
stronger in the poorer classes nowadays than in 
the wealthy or even the moderately rich of the 
general community. Women of the " upper ten " 
are no longer pre-eminent as rulers of the home, 
but are to be seen daily and nightly as noisy and 
pushing frequenters of public restaurants. The 
great lady is seldom or never to be found *' at 
home '' on her own domain, — ^but she may be 
easily met at the Carlton, Prince's, or the Berkeley 
(on Sundays). The old-world chatelaine of a 
great house who took pride in looking after the 
comfort of all her retainers, — who displayed an 
active interest in every detail of management, — 
surrounding herself with choice furniture, fine 
pictures, sweet linen, beautiful flowers, and home 
delicates of her own personal make or supervision, 
is becoming well-nigh obsolete. " It is such a bore 
being at home ! " is quite an ordinary phrase with 
the gawk-girl of the present day, who has no idea 
of the value of rest as an aid to beauty, or of the 
healthful and strengthening influences of a quiet 
and well-cultivated mind, and who has made her- 
self what is sometimes casually termed a *' sight " 
by her skill at hockey, her speed in cycling, and her 
general " rushing about," in order to get anywhere 
away from the detested " home." The mother 
of a family now aspires to seem as young as her 
daughters, and among the vanishing graces of 
society may be noted the grace of old age. Nobody 



238 FREE OPINIONS 

IS old nowadays. Men of sixty wed girls of 
sixteen, women of fifty lead boys of twenty to the 
sacrificial altar. Such things are repulsive, abom- 
inable and unnatural, but they are done every day, 
and a certain " social set," smirk the usual con- 
ventional hypocritical approval, few having the 
courage to protest against what they must Inwardly 
recognize as both outrageous and Indecent. The 
real " old " lady, the real " old " gentleman will 
soon be counted among the " rare and curious " 
specimens of the race. The mother who was not 
*' married at sixteen " will ere long be a remark- 
able prodigy, and the paterfamilias who never 
explains that he " made an unfortunate marriage 
when quite a boy," will rank beside her as a com- 
panion phenomenon. We have only to scan the 
pages of those periodicals which cater specially 
for fashionable folk, to see what a frantic dread 
of age pervades all classes of pleasure-loving 
society. The Innumerable nostrums for removing 
wrinkles, massaging or " steaming," the complex- 
ion, the " coverings," for thin hair, the " rays," of 
gold or copper or auburn, which are cunningly 
contrived for grey, or to use the more polite word, 
" faded," tresses, the great army of manicurists, 
masseurs and " beauty-speclallsts," who, In the 
most clever way, manage to make comfortable 
Incomes out of the general panic which apparently 
prevails among their patrons at the inflexible, 
unstoppable march of Time, — all these things are 
striking proofs of the constant desperate fight kept 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 239 

up by a large and foolish majority against the 
laws of God and of Nature. Nor is the category 
confined to persons of admittedly weak intellect, 
as might readily be imagined, for just as the 
sapient Mr. Andrew Lang has almost been con- 
victed of a hesitating faith in magic crystals, (God 
save him !) so are the names of many men, eminent 
in scholarship and politics, " down on the list " 
of the dyer, the steamer, the padder, the muscle- 
improver, the nail-polisher, the wrinkle-remover, 
and the eye-embellisher. Which facts, though 
apparently trival, are so many brief hints of a 
" giving " in the masculine stamina. " It is but 
foolery; but it is such a kind of gain-giving as 
would perhaps trouble a woman." Vide Hamlet, 
Such it may be, — let us hope that such it is. 

No doubt much of this fantastic dread of " look- 
ing old," arises from the fact that nowadays age, 
instead of receiving the honour it merits, is fre- 
quently made the butt of ignorant and vulgar 
ridicule. One exception alone is allowed in the 
case of our gracious Queen Alexandra, who sup- 
ports her years with so much ease and scarcely 
diminished beauty. But there are hosts of other 
women beside the Queen whom it would seem that 
** age cannot wither," — Sarah Bernhardt, for 
example, whose brilliant vitality is the envy of 
all her feminine compeers; while many leading 
" beauties " who never scored a success in their 
teens, are now trampling triumphantly over men's 
hearts in their forties. Nevertheless the boorish 



240 FREE OPINIONS 

sections of the Press and of society take a special 
delight, (Mr. Lecky calls It *' pure malevolence,") 
In making the advance of age a subject for coarse 
jesting, whereas If rightly viewed, the decline of 
the body Is merely the natural withering of that 
chrysalis which contains the ever young and 
immortal Soul. Forced asunder by the strength 
of unfolding wings, the chrysalis must break; and 
Its breaking should not cause regret, but joy. Of 
course If faith In God Is a mere dead letter, and 
poor humanity Is taught to consider this brief life 
as our soul beginning and end, I can quite imagine 
that the advance of years may be looked upon with 
dislike and fear, — though scarcely with ridicule. 
But for the happy beings who are conscious that 
while the body grows weaker, the Soul grows 
stronger, — who feel that behind this mere passing 
" reflection," of Life, the real Life awaits them, 
age has no drawbacks and no forebodings of evil. 
The prevailing dread of It, and the universal fight- 
ing against It, betoken an Insecure and wholly 
materialistic mental attitude. 

Of the feminine Indulgence In complexion cures, 
combined with the deplorable lack of common 
sense, which shows Itself In the constant consulta- 
tion of palmists and clairvoyants, while home and 
family duties are completely neglected or forgot- 
ten, the less said the better. By such conduct 
women appear to be voluntarily straying back to 
the dark ages when people believed In witches and 
soothsayers, and would pay five shillings or more 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 241 
to see the faces of their future husbands in the 
vHWe well 'Happy the man who, at the crucial 
i'ent looked o'vir the shoulder of the enqujr- 
W maiden! He was sure to be accepted on the 
^a ufof his own mirrored -flection apan a to 
gether from his possible personal "^^"ts. To h^s 
day in Devonshire, many young women beheve in 
fhe demoniacal abilities of a harmless old gentle^ 
man who leads a retired life on the moors, and 
X is supposed to be able to "do something o 
Tomebody;' It would be a hard task to explain 
the real meaning of this somewhat vague phrase, 
but the following solution can be safely given with- 
out any harm accruing. It works out in this way : 
If you know "somebody," who is unpleasant to 
you, go to this old gentleman and give h.m hve 
Ihillings, and he will "do something -never 
mind what. It may be safely prophesied that he 
will spend the five shillings; the rest is involved 
in mystery. Now, however silly this superstition 
on the part of poor Devonshire maids may be, it 
is not a whit more so than the behaviour of the 
so-called "cultured" woman of fashion who 
spends a couple of guineas in one of J^e rooms or 
"'salons," near Bond Street on the fraudulent 
rascal of a " palmist," or " crystal-gazer, who 
has the impudence and presumption to pretend to 
know her past and her future. It is a wonder that 
the Imen who patronize these professional cheats 
have not more self-respect than to enter such dens 
..yvhere the crime of " obtaming money on false 



242 FREE OPINIONS 

pretences " Is daily practised without the Inter- 
vention of the law. But all the mischief starts 
from the same source, — neglect of home, indiffer- 
ence to home duties, and the constant " gadding- 
about " which seems to be the principal delight 
and aim of women who are amply supplied with 
the means of subsistence, either through Inherited 
fortune, or through marriage with a wealthy part- 
ner, and who consider themselves totally exempt 
from the divine necessity of Work. Yet these are 
truly the very ones whose duty It Is to work the 
hardest, because " Unto whom much is given even 
from him (or her) shall much be required." No 
woman who has a home need ever be idle. If she 
employs her time properly, she will find no leisure 
for gossiping, scandal-mongering, moping, grum- 
bling, " fadding," fortune-telling or crystal-gaz- 
ing. Of course. If she " manages " her household 
merely through a paid housekeeper, she cannot be 
said to govern the establishment at all. The house- 
keeper Is the real mistress, and very soon, secures 
such a position of authority, that the lady who 
employs and pays her scarcely dare give an order 
without her. Speaking on this subject a few days 
ago with a distinguished and mild-tempered gentle- 
man, who has long ceased to expect any comfort 
or pleasure in the magnificent house his wealth 
pays for, but which under its present government 
might as well be a hotel where he is sometimes 
allowed to take the head of the table, he said to 
me, with an air of quiet resignation : — " Ladles 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 243 

have so many more interests nowadays than in 
my father's time. They do so many things. It 
is really bewildering! My wife, for example, is 
always out. She has so many engagements. She 
has scarcely five minutes to herself, and is often 
quite knocked up with fatigue and excitement. 
She has no time to attend to housekeeping, and of 
course the children are almost entirely with their 
nurse and governess." This description applies 
to most households of a fashionable or " smart " 
character, and shows what a topsy-turveydom of 
the laws of Nature is allowed to pass muster and 
to even meet with general approval. The " wife " 
of whom my honourable and distinguished friend 
spoke to me, rises languidly from her bed at 
eleven, and occupies all her time till two o'clock 
in dressing, manicuring, ' " transforming " and 
" massaging." She also receives and sends a few 
telegrams. At two o'clock she goes out in her 
carriage and lunches with some chosen intimates at 
one or other of the fashionable restaurants. Lunch 
over, she returns home and lies down for an hour. 
Then she arrays herself in an elaborate tea gown 
and receives a favoured few in her boudoir, where 
over a cup of tea she assists to tear into piecemeal 
portions the characters of her dearest friends. 
Another " rest " and again the business of the 
toilette is resumed. When en grande tenue she 
either goes out to dinner, or entertains a large 
party of guests at her own table. A tete-a-tete 
meal with her husband would appear to her in the 



244 FREE OPINIONS 

light of a positive calamity. She stays up playing 
" Bridge " till two or three o'clock in the morning, 
and retires to bed more or less exhausted, and can 
only sleep with the aid of narcotics. She resumes 
the same useless existence, and perpetrates the same 
wicked waste of time again the next day and every 
day. Her children she scarcely sees, and the man- 
agement of her house is entirely removed from her 
hands. The housekeeper takes all the accounts 
to her husband, who meekly pays the same, and 
lives for the most part at his club, or at the houses 
of his various sporting friends. " Home " is for 
him a mere farce. He knew what it was in his 
mother's day, when his grand old historical seat 
was a home indeed, and all the members of the 
family, young and old, looked upon it as the chief 
centre of attraction, and the garnering-point of 
love and faith and confidence ; but since he grew up 
to manhood, and took for his life-partner a rapid 
lady of the new Motor-School of Morals, he 
stands like Marius among the ruins of Carthage, 
contemplating the complete wreckage of his ship 
of life, and knowing sadly enough that he can 
never sail the seas of hope again. 

The word " Home " has, or used to have, a very 
sacred meaning, and is peculiarly British. The 
French have no such term. " Chez-moi " or 
" chez-soi " are poor substitutes, and indeed none 
of the Latin races appear to have any expression 
which properly conveys the real sentiment. The 
Germans have it, and their " Heimweh " Is as 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 245 

significant as our " home-sickness." The Germans 
are essentially a home-loving people, and this niay 
be said of all Teutonic, Norse and Scandinavian 
races. By far the strongest blood of the British 
is inherited from the North,— and as a rule the 
natural tendency in the pure Briton is one of scorn 
for the changeful, vagrant, idle, careless and semi- 
pagan temperament of southern nations. As the 
last of our real Laureates sang in his own match- 
less way : 

Oh, tell her, Swallow, thou that knowest each 
That bright and fierce and fickle is the South, 
And dark and true and tender is the North! 

Oh, tell her, Swallow, that thy brood is flown; 

Say that I do but wanton in the South, 

But in the North, long since, my nest is made ! 

" My nest is made " is the ultimatum of the 
lover, — the " nest " or the home being the natural 
centre of the circle of man's ambition. A happy 
home is the best and surest safeguard against all 
evil; and where home is not happy, there the devil 
may freely enter and find his hands full. With 
women, and women only, this happiness in the 
home must find its foundation. They only are 
responsible; for no matter how wild and erring a 
man may be, if he can always rely on finding some- 
where in the world a peaceful, well-ordered and 
undishonoured home, he will feel the saving grace 
of it sooner or later, and turn to it as the one bright 
beacon in a darkening wilderness. But if he knows 



246 FREE OPINIONS 

that it is a mere hostelry, — that his wife has no 
pride in it, — that other men than himself have 
found the right to enter there, — that his servants 
mock him behind his back as a poor, weak, credu- 
lous fool, who has lost all claim to mastership or 
control, he grows to hate the very walls of the 
dwelling, and does his best to lose himself and his 
miseries in a whirlpool of dissipation and folly, 
which too often ends in premature breakdown and 
death. 

One often wonders if the " smart " ladies who 
cast aside the quiet joys of home life, in exchange 
for a jostling " feed " at the Carlton or other 
similar resorts, have any idea of the opinion enter- 
tained of their conduct by that Great Majority, the 
People? The People, — without whom their 
favoured political candidates would stand no 
chance of election, — the People, without whose 
willing work, performed under the heavy strain of 
cruel and increasing foreign competition, they 
would be unable to enjoy the costly luxuries they 
deem indispensable to their lives, — the People, 
who, standing in their millions outside *' society " 
and its endless intrigues, — outside a complaisant 
or subsidized Press, — outside all, save God and 
the Right, — pass judgment on the events of the 
day, and entertain their own strong views thereon, 
which, though such views may not find any printed 
outlet, do nevertheless make themselves felt in 
various unmistakable ways. Latterly, there has 
been a great clamour about servants and the lack 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 247 
of them. It is quite true that many ladies find it 
difficult to secure servants, and that even when 
they do secure them, they often turn out badly, 
being of an untrained and incompetent class. But 
why is this? No doubt many causes work together 
to make up the sum of deficiency or inefficiency, 
but one reason can be given which is possibly 
entirely unsuspected. It is a reason which will no 
doubt astonish some, and awaken the tittering ridi- 
cule of many, but the fact remains unalterable, 
despite incredulity and denial. There is really no 
lack of competent domestic servants. On the con- 
trary, there are plenty of respectable, willing, 
smart, well-instructed girls in the country, who 
would make what are called " treasures '^ in the 
way of housemaids, palourmaids and lady's-maids, 
but whose parents stubbornly refuse to let them 
enter any situation until they know something of 
the character of the mistress with whom they are 
expected to reside, and the general reputation of 
the house or " home " they are to enter. ^ I could 
name dozens of cases where girls, on enquiry, have 
actually declined lucrative situations, and con- 
tented themselves with work at lower wages, 
rather than be known as " in service " with cer- 
tain distinguished ladies. "My girl," says a 
farmer's wife, " is a clean, wholesome, steady lass; 
I'd rather keep her by me for a bit than see her 
mixing herself up with the fashionable folk, who 
are always getting into the divorce court." This 
may be a bitter pill of information for the " sm^rt 



MS ■ FREE OPINIONS 

set" to swallow; but there Is no exaggeration in 
the statement that the working classes have very- 
little respect left nowadays for the ladles of the 
" Upper Ten," and many of the wives of honest 
farmers, mechanics and tradesmen would consider 
that they were voluntarily handing over their 
daughters to temptation and disgrace by allowing 
them to enter domestic service with certain society 
leaders, who, though bearing well-known names, 
are branded by equally well-known " easy virtue." 

Does any one at this time of day recall a certain 
chapter In the Immortal story of Bleak House, by- 
Charles Dickens, when Mr. Rouncewell, the Iron- 
master, a mere tradesman In the opinion of that 
haughty old aristocrat. Sir Leicester Dedlock, 
desires to remove the pretty girl, Rosa, lady's-maid 
to Lady Dedlock, at once from her situation, if 
she is to marry his son? An extract from this 
scene may not here be altogether out of place. 

Lady Dedlock has enquired of the iron-master 
if the love-affair between her lady's-maid, and his 
son is still going on, and receives an answer In the 
affirmative. 

" ' If you remember anything so unimportant,' 
he says — * which Is not to be expected — you would 
recollect that my first thought in the affair was 
directly opposed to her remaining here.' 

** Dismiss the Dedlock patronage from con- 
sideration? Oh I Sir Leicester Is bound to believe 
a pair of ears that have been handed down to him 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 249 

through such a family, or he really might have 
mistrusted their report of the iron-gentleman's 
observation ! 

" ' It is not necessary/ observes my Lady, in 
her coldest manner, before he can do anything but 
breathe amazedly, * to enter into these matters 
on either side. The girl is a very good girl; I 
have nothing whatever to say against her; but 
she is so far insensible to her many advantages 
and her good fortune, that she is in love — or sup- 
poses she is, poor little fool — and unable to 
appreciate them.' 

*' Sir Leicester begs to observe that wholly alters 
the case. He might have been sure that my Lady 
had the best grounds and reasons in support of 
her view. He entirely agrees with my Lady. The 
young woman had better go. 

" * As Sir Leicester observed, Mr. Rouncewell, 
on the last occasion when we were fatigued by 
this business,' Lady Dedlock languidly proceeds, 
* we cannot make conditions with you. Without 
conditions, and under present circumstances, the 
girl Is quite misplaced here and had better go, I 
have told her so. Would you wish to have her 
sent back to the village, or would you like to take 
her with you, or what would you prefer? ' 

" * Lady Dedlock, if I may speak plainly ' 

" ' By all means.' 

" * I should prefer the course which will the 
sooner relieve you of the encumbrance, and remove 
her from her present position,'* 



250 FREE OPINIONS 

" * And to speak as plainly/ she returns, with 
the same studied carelessness, * so should I. Do 
I understand that you will take her with you ? ' 

" The Iron-gentleman makes an Iron bow. 
***** 

" * Sir Leicester and Lady Dedlock,' says Mr. 
Rouncewell, after a pause of a few moments ; * I 
beg to take my leave with an apology for having 
again troubled you. I can very well understand, 
I assure you, how very tiresome so small a matter 
must have become to Lady Dedlock. If I am 
doubtful on my dealing with It, It Is only because 
I did not at first quietly exert my influence to take 
my young friend here away without troubling you 
at all. I hope you will excuse my want of acquaint- 
ance with the polite world.' " 

As a matter of fact, certain rumours against 
Lady Dedlock's reputation, and hints as to her 
" past," have come to the ears of the honest trades- 
man, and he prefers to remove his son's betrothed 
wife from the contact of a possible pernicious 
influence. The very same thing Is done scores of 
times over In many similar cases to-day. 

No one knows the real character and disposition 
of the mistress of a home better than the servants 
she employs, and If she is honoured and loved by 
her domestics, she stands on surer ground than the 
praise or flattery of her fashionable friends. It is 
all a question of *' home " again. A real home Is 
a home to all connected with It. The very kitchen- 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 251 

maid employed in it, the boy who runs errands for 
the house; indeed every servant, from the lowest 
to the highest, should feel that their surroundings 
are truly ^' homelike," — that things are well- 
ordered, peaceful and happy; that the presiding 
spirit of the place, the mistress, is contented with 
her life, and cheerfully interested in the welfare 
of all around her, — then *' all things work 
together for good," and the house becomes a bul- 
wark against adversity, a harbour in storm, a 
" nest " indeed, where warmth, repose, and mu- 
tual trust and help make the days sweet and the 
nights calm. But where the mistress Is scarcely 
ever at home, — when she prefers public restau- 
rants to her own dining-room, — when with each 
change of the season she is gadding about some- 
where, and avoiding home as much as possible, 
how Is it to be expected that even servants will 
care to stay with her, or ever learn to admire and 
respect her? Peace and happiness are hers to pos- 
sess in the natural and God-given ways of home 
life, If she chooses, — but If she turns aside from 
her real sovereignty, throws down her sceptre and 
plays with the sticks and straws of the " half 
world," she has only herself to blame If the end 
should prove but dire confusion and the bitter- 
ness of strife. 

Apart altogether from the Individual dignity 
and self-poise which are Invariably lacking to the 
'* vagrant," or home despising human being, the 
decay of home life in England Is a serious menace 



252 FREE OPINIONS 

to the Empire's future strength. If our coming 
race of men have been accustomed to see their 
mothers indulging In a kind of high-class public 
house feasting, combined with public house morals, 
and have learned from them an absolute indiffer- 
ence to home and home ties, they in their turn will 
do likewise and live as " vagrants," — here, there 
and everywhere, rather than as well-established, 
self-respecting citizens and patriots, proud of their 
country, and proud of the right to defend their 
homes. Even as it Is, there are not wanting signs 
of a general " wandering," tendency, combined 
with morbid apathy and sickly Inertia. *' One 
place Is as good as another," says one section of 
society, and " anything is better than the English 
climate," says another, preparing to pack off to 
Egypt or the Riviera at the first snap of winter. 
These opinions are an exact reversion of those 
expressed by our sturdy, patriotic forefathers, 
who made the glory of Great Britain. " There 
is no place like England " was their sworn convic- 
tion, and " no place like home " was the essence 
of their national sentiment. The English climate, 
too, was quite good enough for them, and they 
made the best of It. When will the " Smart Set " 
grasp the fact that the much-abused weather, 
whatever it may be, is pretty much the same all 
over Europe? The Riviera is no warmer than the 
Cornish coast, but certes it is better provided with 
hotels, and — chlefest attraction of all — it has a 
Gambling Hell. The delights of Monte Carlo 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 253 

and " Home," are as far apart as the poles; and 
those who seek the one cannot be expected to 
appreciate the other. But such English women as 
are met at the foreign gambling-tables, season 
after season, may be looked upon as the deliberate 
destroyers of all that is best and strongest in our 
national life, In the sanctity of Home, and the 
beauty of home affections. The English Home 
used to be a model to the world; — with a few 
more scandalous divorce cases in high life, it will 
become a by-word for the mockery of nations. 
The following from the current Press is sufficiently 
instructive : 

" The crowd of well-dressed women who daily 
throng the court during the hearing of the . . . 
case and follow with such intense eagerness every 
incident in the dissection of a woman's honour 
afford a remarkable object-lesson in contemporary 
social progress. 

" Ladies, richly garbed, who drive up in smart 
broughams, emblazoned carriages, and motor- 
cars, and are representative of the best known 
families in the land, fight and scramble for a seat, 
criticize the proceedings in a low monotone, and, 
without the smallest indication of a blush, bal- 
ance every point made by counsel, and follow with 
keen apprehension the most suggestive evidence. 

" Others, no less intensely interested in the 
sordid details of divorce, come on foot — women 
of the great well-to-do middle class, who have 



254 FREE OPINIONS 

all their lives had the advantage of refined and 
educated surroundings. Some are old, with silvery 
hair; others are middle-aged women, who bring 
comely daughters still in their teens; others are 
in the first blush of womanhood; but they all 
crowd into the narrow court and struggle to get 
a glimpse of the chief actors in the drama, and 
listen to the testimony which would convict them 
of dishonour." 

No one in their sober senses will call any of 
these women fit to rule their homes, or to be 
examples to their children. Unblushingly inde- 
cent, and unspeakably vulgar, their brazen effron- 
tery and shameless interest in the revolting details 
of a revolting case, have shown them to be beyond 
the pale of all true womanhood, and utterly unfit 
to be the mothers of our future men, or guardians 
of the honour of home and family. There is no 
"railing" against society in this assertion; the 
plain facts speak for themselves. 

The charm of home depends, of course, en- 
tirely on the upbringing and character of the 
inmates. Stupid and illiterate people make a dull 
fireside. Morbid faddists, always talking and 
thinking about themselves, put the fire out alto- 
gether. If I were asked my opinion as to the chief 
talent or gift for making a happy home, I should 
without a moment's hesitation, reply, ** Cheerful- 
ness." A cheerful spirit, always looking on the 
bright side, and determined to make the best of 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 255 

everything, Is the choicest blessing and the bright- 
est charm of home. People with a turn for 
grumbling should certainly live In hotels and dine 
at restaurants. They will never understand how 
to make, or to keep, a home as It should be. But, 
given a cheerful, equable, and active tempera- 
ment, there is nothing sweeter, happier or safer 
for the human being than Home, and the life 
which centres within it, and the duties concerning 
it which demand our attention and care. There 
is no need for women to wander far afield for an 
outlet to their energies. Their work waits for 
them at their own doors, In the town or village 
where they reside. No end of useful, kind and 
neighbourly things are to hand for their doing, — 
every day can be filled, like a basket of flowers, 
full of good deeds and gentle words by every 
woman, poor or rich, who has either cottage or 
mansion which she can truly call " Home.'* 
Home Is a simple background, against which the 
star of womanhood shines brightest and best. 
The modern " gad-about '* who suggests a com- 
position of female chimpanzee and fashionable 
" Johnny " combined, is a kind of sexless creature 
for whom " Home " would only be a cage In the 
general menagerie. She (or It) would merely 
occupy the time In scrambling about from perch to 
perch, screaming on the slightest provocation, and 
snapping at such other similar neuter creatures 
who chanced to possess longer or more bushy tails. 
And it is a pity such an example should be thought 



256 FREE OPINIONS 

worthy of imitation by any woman claiming to 
possess the advantage of human reason. But the 
Chimpanzee type of female is just now singularly 
en evidence, having a habit of pushing to the front 
on all occasions, and performing such strange 
antics as call for public protest, and keep the 
grinding machinery of the law over busy. The 
Press, too, pays an enormous amount of unneces- 
sary attention to the performances of these more 
or less immodest animals, so that it sometimes 
seems to our Continental neighbours as if we, as 
a nation, had no real women left, but only chim- 
panzees. 

There are, however, slight stirrings of a move- 
ment among the true " ladies " of England, those 
who stand more or less aloof from the " smart 
set," — a movement indicative of " drawing the 
line somewhere.'* It is possible that there may 
yet be a revival of " Home " and its various 
lost graces and dignities. We may even hear of 
doors that will not open to millionaires simply 
because they are millionaires. Only the other day 
a very great lady said to her sister in my hearing : 
*' No, I shall not * present ' my two girls at all. 
Society is perfectly demoralized, and I would 
rather the children remained out of it, so far as 
London is concerned. They are much happier in 
the country than in town, and much healthier, and 
I want to keep them so. Besides, they love their 
home I" 

Herein Is the saving grace of life, — to love 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 257 

one's home. Love of home implies lovable people 
dwelling in the charmed circle, — tender hearts, 
quick to respond to every word of love, every 
whisper of confidence, every caress. The home- 
less man is the restless and unhappy man, for ever 
seeking what he cannot find. The homeless 
woman is still more to be pitied, being entirely 
and hopelessly out of her natural element. And 
the marked tendency which exists nowadays to 
avoid home life is wholly mischievous. Women 
complain that home is " dull," " quiet," " monot- 
onous," " lonely," and blame it for all sorts of 
evils which exist only in themselves. If a woman 
cannot be a few hours alone without finding her 
house " dull," her mind must be on the verge of 
lunacy. The sense of being unable to endure one's 
own company augurs ill for the moral equilib- 
rium. To preserve good health and sound nerves, 
women should always make it a rule to be quite 
alone at least for a couple of hours in the course 
of each day. Let them take that space to think, 
to read, to rest, and mentally review their own 
thoughts, words and actions in the light of a quiet 
conscience-time of pause and meditation. Home 
is the best place so to rest and meditate, — and 
the hours that are spent in thinking how to make 
that home happier will never be wasted. It 
should be very seriously borne in mind that it is 
only in the home life that marriage can be proved 
successful or the reverse, and, to quote Mr, Lecky 
once more ; 



258 FREE OPINIONS 

" A moral basis of sterling qualities is of capital 
importance. A true, honest and trustworthy na- 
ture, capable of self-sacrifice and self-restraint, 
should rank in the first line, and after that, a 
kindly, equable and contended temper, a power of 
sympathy, a habit of looking at the better and 
brighter side of men and things. Of intellectual 
qualities, judgment, tact and order, are perhaps 
the most valuable. . . . Grace and the charm of 
manner will retain their full attraction to the last. 
They brighten in innumerable ways the little 
things of life, and life is mainly made up of little 
things, exposed to petty frictions, and requiring 
small decisions and small sacrifices. Wide inter- 
ests and large appreciations are in the marriage 
relation more important than any great construc- 
tive or creative talent, and the power to soothe, 
to sympathize, to counsel and to endure than the 
highest qualities of the hero or the saint. It is by 
this alone that the married life attains its full per- 
fection." 

And when we hear, as we so often do, of the 
complete failure and deplorable disaster attending 
many marriages, let us look for the root of 
the evil at its foundation, — namely the decay of 
home life, the neglect and avoidance of home 
and home duties, — the indifference to, or scorn of 
home-influence. For whenever any woman, rich 
or poor, high in rank or of humble estate, throws 
these aside, and turns her back on Home, her own 



DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 259 

natural, beautiful and thrice-blessed sphere of 
action, she performs what would be called the 
crazed act of a queen, who, called to highest 
sovereignty, casts away her crown, breaks her 
sceptre, tramples on her royal robes, and steps 
from her throne, down; — down into the dust of a 
saddened world's contempt. 



SOCIETY AND SUNDAY 

A CCORDING to the latest views publicly 
AA expressed by both Christian and un-Chrls- 
-*- -^tian clerics, it would appear that twentieth- 
century Society is not at one with Sunday. It no 
longer keeps the seventh day ** holy." It will not 
go to church. It declines to listen to dull ser- 
mons delivered by dull preachers. It openly 
expresses its general contempt for the collection- 
plate. It reads its up-to-date books and maga- 
zines, and says: " The Sabbath Is a Jewish Insti- 
tution. And though the spirit of the Jew per- 
vades my whole composition and constitution, and 
though I borrow money of the Jew whenever I 
find it convenient, there is no reason why I should 
follow the Jew's religious ritual. The New 
Testament lays no stress whatever upon the 
necessity of keeping the seventh day holy. On the 
contrary, it tells us that * the Sabbath was made 
for man, not man for the Sabbath.' " 

This Is true enough. It Is a difficult point to 
get over. And despite the fact that the sovereign 
rulers of the realm most strictly set the example 
to all their subjects of attending Divine service 
at least once on Sunday, this example Is just the 
very one among the various leading patterns of 

?6o 



SOCIETY AND SUNDAY 261 

life offered by the King and Queen which Society 
blandly sets aside with a smile. For, notwith- 
standing the constant painstaking production of 
exquisitely printed Prayer-books, elegantly bound 
in ivory, silver, morocco leather, and silk vel- 
vet. Society is not often seen nowadays with these 
little suggestions of piety in its be-ringed and be- 
bangled hands. It prefers a pack of cards. Its 
ears are more attuned to the hissing rush of the 
motor than to the solemn sound of sacred psalm- 
ody; and the dust of the high-road, compounded 
with the oil-stench of the newest and fastest auto- 
mobile, offers a more grateful odour to its nostrils 
than the perfume of virginal lilies on the altar of 
worship. J litres temps, aiitres mceurs! People 
who believe in nothing have no need of prayer. 
A social " set " that grabs all it can for itself with- 
out a thank-you to either God or devil is not 
moved to praise. Self and the Hour! That Is 
the motto and watchword of Society to-day, and 
after Self and the Hour, what then? Why, the 
Deluge, of course! And, as happened In olden 
time, and will happen again, general drowning, 
stiflement, and silence. 

There is certainly much to regret and deplore 
In the lack of serious thought, the neglect of piety, 
and the scant reverence for sacred things which, 
taken together, make up a spirit of callous indif- 
ferentism in our modern life, such as is likely to 
rob the nation in future of its backbone and nerve. 
It is a spirit which is gradually transforming the 



26a FREE OPINIONS 

social community from thinking, feeling, reason- 
able human beings Into a mere set of gambolling 
kangaroos, whose chief interest would seem to be 
centred In jumping over each other's backs, or 
sitting on their haunches, grinning foolishly and 
waving their short fore-paws at one another with 
antic gestures of animal delight. They never get 
any " forrader," as it were. They do nothing 
particularly useful. They are amused, annoyed, 
excited, or angry (according to their different 
qualities of kangaroo nature) when one jumps a 
little higher than the other, or waves its paws a 
little more attractively; but their sentiments are 
as temporary as their passions. There Is nothing 
to be got out of them any way, but the jumping 
and the paw-waving. At the same time it is ex- 
tremely doubtful as to whether taking them to 
church on Sundays would do them good, or bring 
them back to the human condition. Things are 
too far gone — the metamorphosis is too nearly 
accomplished. One day Is the same as another to 
the Society kangaroo. All days are suitable to his 
or her " hop, skip, and a jump." But shall there 
be no "worship"? What should a kangaroo 
worship? No '* rest "? Why should a kangaroo 
rest? "Listen to the Reverend Mr. Soulcure's 
sermon, and learn how to be good!" Ya-ah! 
One can hear the animal scream as he or she turns 
a somersault at the mere suggestion and scuttles 
away! 

Society's neglect of Sunday observance in these 



SOCIETY AND SUNDAY 263 

early days of the new century Is due to many 
things, chiefes't among these being the Incapacity 
of the clergy to Inspire Interest In their hearers or 
to fix the attention of the general public. It Is un- 
fortunate that this should be so, but so It Is. The 
ministers of religion fall to seize the problems of 
the time. They forget, or wilfully Ignore, the dis- 
coveries of the age. Yet In these could be found 
endless subject-matter for the divlnest arguments. 
Religion and science, viewed broadly, do not clash 
so much as they combine. To the devout and 
deeply studious mind, the marvels of science are 
the truths of religion made manifest. But this Is 
what the clergy seem to miss persistently out of 
all their teaching and preaching. Take, for exam- 
ple, the text: "In My Father's house there are 
many mansions.*' What a noble discourse could 
be made hereon of some of the most sublime facts 
of science ! — of the powers of the air, of the cur- 
rents of light, of the magnificent movements of 
the stars in their courses, of the plenitude and 
glory of Innumerable solar systems, all upheld and 
guided by the same Intelligent Force which equally 
upholds and guides the destinies of man! Un- 
happily for the world In general, and for the 
churches in particular, preachers who select texts 
from Scripture In order to extract therefrom some 
instructive lesson that shall be salutary for their 
congregations, do not always remember the sym- 
bolic or allegorical manner in which such texts 
.were originally spoken or written. To many of 



264 FREE OPINIONS 

them the " literal " meaning is alone apparent, 
and they see in the " many mansions ■' merely a 
glorified Park Lane or Piccadilly, adorned with 
rows of elegantly commonplace dwelling-houses 
built of solid gold. Their conceptions of the 
** Father's house " are sadly limited. They can- 
not shake ofi the material from the spiritual, or 
get away from themselves sufficiently to under- 
stand or enter into the dumb cra^-ing of all human 
nature for help, for sympathy, for love — for sure- 
ness in its conceptions of God — such sureness as 
shall not run counter to the proved results of 
reason. For reason is as much the gift of God 
as speech, and to kill one's intellectual aspiration 
in order, as some bigots would advise, to serve 
God more completely is the rankest blasphemy. 
The wilful refusal to use a great gift merely 
insults the Giver. 

It is by obstinately declining to watch the 
branching-out, as it were, of the great tree of 
Christianity in forms which are not narrow or 
limited, but spacious and far-reaching, that the 
clergy have in a great measure lost much that they 
should have retained. Society has slipped alto- 
gether from their hold. Society sees for itself 
that too many clerics are either blatant or timor- 
oos. Some of them bully; others crawl. Some 
are all softness to the wealthy; all harshness to the 
poor. Others, again, devote themselves to the 
poor entirely, and neglect the wealthy, who are 
quite as much, if not more, in need of a " soul 



SOCIETY AND SUNDAY 265 

cure " as the most forlorn Lazarus that ever lay 
in the dust of the road of life. None of them 
seem able to cope with the great dark wave of 
infidelity and atheism which has swept over the 
modern world stealthily, but overwhelmingly, 
sucking many a struggling soul down into the 
depths of suicidal despair. And Society, making 
up its mind that it is neither edified nor enter- 
tained by going to church on Sunday, stays away, 
and turns Sunday generally to other uses. It is 
not particular as to what these uses are, provided 
they prove amusing. The old-fashioned notion 
of a " day of rest " or a " good " Sunday can be 
set aside with the church and the clergyman; the 
one desirable object of existence is " not to be 
bored." The spectre of " boredom " is always 
gliding in at every modern function, like the ghost 
of Banquo at Macbeth's feast. To pacify and 
quash this terrible bogie is the chief aim and end 
of all the social kangaroos. The Sunday's observ- 
ance used to be the bogie's great " innings " ; 
but, with an advance in manners and morals, nous 
avons change tout cela! And Society spends its 
Sundays now in a fashion which, if Its great- 
grandmamma of the early Victorian era could 
only see its ways and doings, would so shock the 
dear, virtuous old lady that she would yearn to 
whip it and shut it up in a room for years on bread 
and water. And there is no doubt that such a 
wholesome regime would do it a power of good! 
At the present interesting period of English his- 



266 FREE OPINIONS 

tory, Sunday appears to be devoutly recognized 
among the Upper Ten as the great " bridge '* 
day. It Is quite the fashion — the " swagger " 
thing — to play bridge all and every Sunday, when 
and whenever possible. During the past London 
" season," the Thames has served as a picturesque 
setting for many of these seventh-day revelries. 
Little gambling-parties have been organized " up 
the river," and houses have been taken from Sat- 
urday to Monday by noted ladles of the half- 
world, desirous of '* rooking " young men, In the 
sweet seclusion of their " country cots by the flow- 
ing stream " — an ambition fully realized In the 
results of the Sunday's steady play at bridge from 
noon till midnight. At a certain military centre 
not far from London, too, the Sunday " gaming " 
might possibly call for comment. It Is privately 
carried on, of course, but — tell It not In Gath! — 
there Is an officer's wife — there are so many offi- 
cers' wives ! — ^but this one In particular, more than 
the others, moves me to the presumption of a 
parody on the Immortal Bard, thus: 

An officer's wife had play-cards in her lap — 

And dealt and dealt. " What tricks ! " quoth I ! 

" They're tricks, you bet ! " the smiling cheat replied— 

" My husband is ' on duty ' gone, 

And ' green ' young subalterns are all my game, 

And till they're drained of gold and silver, too, 

I'll do, I'll do, I'll do!" 

And she does " do." She has found out the 
way to make those " green young subalterns " pay 



SOCIETY AND SUNDAY 267 

her bills and ruin themselves. It Is a thoroughly 
up-to-date manner of spending the Sunday. 

Country-house " week-end " parties are gen- 
erally all bridge-parties. They are all carefully 
selected, with an eye to the main chance. The 
" play " generally begins on Saturday evening, 
and goes on all through Sunday up to midnight. 
One woman, notorious for her insensate love of 
gambling, lately took lessons in " cheating " at 
bridge before joining her country-house friends. 
She came away heavier in purse by five hundred 
pounds, but of that five hundred, one hundred and 
fifty had been won from a foolish little girl of 
eighteen, known to be the daughter of a very 
wealthy, but strict father. When the poor child 
was made to understand the extent of her losses 
at bridge, she was afraid to go home. So she 
purchased some laudanum " for the toothache,*' 
and tried to poison herself by swallowing It. 
Fortunately, she was rescued before it was too 
late, and her Spartan " dad,'* with tears of joy 
in his eyes, paid the money she had lost at cards 
thankfully, as a kind of ransom to Death. But 
she was never again allowed to visit at that 
" swagger " house where she had been '' rooked " 
so unmercifully. And when we remember how 
fond Society is of bragging of its little philan- 
thropies, its " bazaars " and carefully calculated 
*' charities," we may, perhaps, wonder whether, 
among the list of good and noble deeds it declares 
itself capable of, it would set its face against 



268 FREE OPINIONS 

bridge, and make '' gambling parties " once for 
all unfashionable and in "bad form"? This 
would be true philanthropy, and would be more 
productive of good than any amount of regular 
church attendance. For there is no doubt that 
very general sympathy is accorded to people who 
find that going to church is rather an irksome busi- 
ness. It is not as if they were taught anything 
wonderfully inspiring or helpful there. They sel- 
dom have even the satisfaction of hearing the 
service read properly. The majority of the clergy 
are innocent of all elocutionary art. They read 
the finest passages of Scripture in the sing-song 
tone of a clerk detailing the items of a bill. It 
is a soothing style, and quickly induces sleep; but 
that is its only recommendation. 

When not playing bridge, Society's " Sunday 
observance " is motoring. Flashing and fizzling 
all over the place, it rushes here, there, and every- 
where, creating infinite dust, smelling abominably, 
and looking uglier than the worst demons in 
Dante's " Inferno." Beauty certainly goes to the 
wall in a motor. The hideous masks, goggles, 
and caps which help to make up the woman 
motorist's driving gear, are enough to scare the 
staunchest believer in the eternal attractiveness 
of the fair sex, while the general get-up of the 
men is on a par with that of the professional 
stoker or engine-driver. Nevertheless, no reason- 
able woman ought to mind other women looking 
ugly if they like ; while men, of course, are always 



SOCIETY AND SUNDAY 269 

men, and " masters of the planet," whether dirty 
or clean. And no one should really object to the 
*' motor craze," seeing that it takes so many use- 
less people out of one's immediate horizon and 
scatters them far and wide over the surface of the 
earth. Society uses Sunday as a special day for 
this " scattering," and perhaps it is doing no very 
great harm. It is getting fresh air, which it needs; 
it is " going the pace," which, in its fevered con- 
dition of living fast, so as to die more quickly, 
is natural to it; and it is seeing persons and places 
it never saw before in the way of country nooks 
and old-fashioned roadside inns, and rustic people, 
who stare at it with unfeigned amusement, and 
wonder " what the world's a'-comin' to ! " Pos- 
sibly It learns more in a motor drive through the 
heart of rural England than many sermons in 
church could teach it. The only thing one would 
venture to suggest is that in passing its Sundays 
in this fashion. Society should respect the Sundays 
of those who still elect to keep the seventh day 
as a day of rest. Fashionable motorists might 
avoid dashing recklessly through groups of coun- 
try people who are peacefully wending their way 
to and from church. They might '* slow down." 
They might take thoughtful heed of the little 
children who play unguardedly about in many a 
village street. They might have some little con- 
sideration for the uncertain steps of feeble and 
old persons who are perchance blind or deaf, and 
who neither see the " motor " nor hear the warn- 



270 FREE OPINIONS 

ing blast of its discordant horn. In brief, it 
would not hurt Society to spend its Sundays with 
more thought for others than Itself. For the bulk 
and mass of the British people — the people who 
are Great Britain — still adhere to the sacred and 
blessed institution of a *' day of rest,'* even if it 
be not a day of sermons. To thousands upon 
thousands of toiling men and women, Sunday is 
still a veritable God's day, and we may thank God 
for it! Nay, more; we should do our very best 
to keep it as " holy " as we can, if not by listening 
to sermons, at least by a pause in our worldly con- 
cerns, wherein we may put a stop on the wheels 
of work and consider within ourselves as to how 
and why we are working. Sunday is a day when 
we should ask Nature to speak to us and teach us 
such things as may only be mastered in silence and 
solitude — when the book of poems, the beautiful 
prose idyll, or the tender romance, may be our 
companion in summer under the trees, or in winter 
by a bright fire — and when we may stand, as it 
were, for a moment and take breath on the thresh- 
old of another week, bracing our energies to meet 
with whatever that week may hold in store for us, 
whether joy or sorrow. Few nations, however,^ 
view Sunday in this light. On the Continent it 
has long been a day of mere frivolous pleasure — 
and in America I know not what it is, never hav- 
ing experienced it. But the British Sunday, apart 
from all the mockery and innuendo heaped upon 
it by the wits and satirists of the present time and 



SOCIETY AND SUNDAY 271 

of bygone years, used to be a strong and spirit- 
ually saving force in the national existence. Din- 
ner-parties, with a string band in attendance, and 
a Parisian singer of the " cafe chantant " to enter- 
tain the company afterwards, were once unknown 
in England on a Sunday. But such " Sabbath " 
entertainments are quite ordinary now. The pri- 
vate house copies the public restaurant — more's 
the pity! 

Nevertheless, though Society's Sunday has de- 
generated into a day of gambling, guzzling, and 
motoring in Great Britain, it is well to remember 
that Society in itself is so limited as to be a mere 
bubble on the waters of life — froth and scum, as 
it were, that rises to the top, merely to be skimmed 
off and thrown aside in any serious national crisis. 
The People are the life and blood of the nation, 
and to them Sunday remains still a " day of rest," 
though, perhaps, not so much as in old time a day 
of religion. And that it is not so much a day of 
religion is because so many preachers have failed 
in their mission. They have lost grip. There is 
no cause whatever for their so losing it, save such 
as lies within themselves. There has been no 
diminution in the outflow of truth from the sources 
of Divine instruction, but rather an increase. 
The wonders of the universe have been unfolded 
in every direction by the Creator to His creature. 
There is everything for the minister of God to say. 
Yet how little is said! " Feed my sheep! " was 
the command of the Master. But the sheep have 



nm FREE OPINIONS 

cropped all the old ways of thought down to the 
bare ground, and their Inefficient shepherds now 
know not where to lead them, though their Lord's 
command is as imperative as ever. So the flock, 
being hungry, have broken down the fences of 
tradition, and are scampering away In disorder to 
fresh fields and pastures new. Society may be, 
and is, undoubtedly to blame for its lax manner 
of treating religion and religious observances; but, 
with all its faults, It is not so blameworthy as those 
teachers of the Christian faith, whose lack of 
attention to its needs and perplexities help to make 
it the heaven-scorning, God-denying, heart-sore, 
weary, and always dissatisfied thing it is. Society's 
Sunday is merely a reflex of Society's own Imme- 
diate mood — the mood of killing time at all costs, 
even to the degradation of Its own honour, for 
want of something better to do I 



THE "STRONG" BOOK OF THE 
ISHBOSHETH 

THERE are two trite sayings In common 
use with us all — one is: " Circumstances 
alter cases," which Is English; the other 
is: " Autres temps, autres moeurs," which is 
French. But there lacks any similar epigrammatic 
expression to convey the complete and curious 
change of meaning, which by a certain occult 
literary process becomes gradually attached to 
quite ordinary words of our daily speech. 
" Strong," for instance, used to mean strength. 
It means It still, I believe, in the gymnasium. But 
In very choice literary circles it means " unclean." 
This Is strange, but true. For some time past the 
gentle and credulous public has remained in child- 
like doubt as to what was really implied by a 
" strong " book. The gentle and credulous pub- 
lic has been under the Impression that the word 
" strong " used by the guides, philosophers, and 
friends who review current fiction in the daily 
Press, meant a powerful style, a vigorous grip, a 
brilliant way of telling a captivating and noble 
story. But they have, by slow and painful de- 
grees, found out their mistake in this direction, 
and they know now. that a " strong " book means 

273 



274 FREE OPINIONS 

a nasty subject indelicately treated. Whereupon 
they are beginning to " sheer off " any book 
labelled by the inner critical faculty as " strong." 
This must be admitted as a most unfortunate fact 
for those who are bending all their energies upon 
the writing of " strong " books, and who are 
wasting their powers on discussing what they 
euphoniously term " delicate and burning sub- 
jects "; but it is a hopeful and blessed sign of in- 
creasing education and widening Intellectual per- 
ception in jthe masses, who will soon by their 
sturdy common sense win a position which is not 
to be *' frighted with false fire." Congratulating 
the proprietors of Great Thoughts on its thou- 
sandth number, the sapient Westminster Gazette 
lately chortled forth the following lines: "A 
career such as our contemporary has enjoyed, 
shows that the taste for good reading is wider 
than some would have us believe. We wish Great 
Thoughts continued success." O wise judge! O 
learned judge! The public taste for good read- 
ing is only questioned when writers whom Thou 
dislikest are read by the base million ! 

" Art," says a certain M.A., '' if it be genuine 
and sincere, tends ever to the lofty and the beauti- 
ful. There is no rule of art more important than 
the sense of modesty. Vice grows not a little by 
immodesty of thought." True. And Immodesty 
of thought fulfils its mission In the '* strong " 
book, which alone succeeds in winning the ap- 
plause of that " Exclusive Set of Degenerates " 



^'STRONG" BOOK OF ISHBOSHETH 275 

known as the E.S.D. under the Masonic Scrip- 
tural sign o£ IsHBOSHETH (laying particular 
emphasis on the syllable between *' Ish " and the 
*' eth,") who manage to obtain temporary posts 
on the ever changeful twirling treadmill of the 
daily press. The Ishbosheth singular is the man 
who praises the " strong " book — the Ishbosheth 
in the plural are the Exclusive Set who are sworn 
to put down Virtue and extol Vice. Hence the 
" strong " cult, as also the " virile." This latter 
excellent and expressive word has become seri- 
ously maltreated in the hands of the Ishbosheth, 
and is now made answerable for many sins which 
it did not originally represent. " Virile '' is from 
the Latin virilis, a male — virility is the state and 
characteristic of the adult male. Applied to cer- 
tain books, however, by the Ishbosheth it will be 
found by the discerning public to mean coarse — 
rough — with a literary " style " obtained by 
sprinkling several pages of prose with the lowest 
tavern-oaths, together with the name of God, 
pronounced " Gawd." Anything written In that 
fashion Is at once pronounced " virile " and com- 
mands wide admiration from the Ishbosheth, par- 
ticularly if It should be a story In which women 
are depicted at the lowest kickable depth of drab- 
ism to which men can drag them, while men 
are represented as the suffering victims of their 
wickedness. This peculiar kind of turn-coat 
morality was, according to Genesis, instituted by 
Adam in his cowardly utterance: *' The woman 



276 FREE OPINIONS 

tempted me," as an excuse for his own base 
greed; and it has apparently continued to sprout 
forth in various sections of his descendants ever 
since that time, especially in the community of 
the Ishbosheth. " Virility," therefore, being the 
state and characteristic of the adult male, or the 
adult Adam, means, according to the Ishbosheth, 
men's proper scorn for the sex of their mothers, 
and an egotistical delight in themselves, united 
to a barbarous rejoicing in bad language and 
abandoned morals. It does not mean this in 
decent every-day life, of course; but it does in 
books — such books as are praised by the Ish- 
bosheth. 

" I don't want one of your * strong ' books," 
said a customer at one of the circulating libraries 
the other day. " Give me something I can read 
to my wife without being ashamed." This puts 
the case in a nutshell. No clean-minded man can 
read the modern " strong " book praised by the 
Ishbosheth and feel quite safe, or even quite 
manly in his wife's presence. He will find himself 
before he knows it mumbling something about the 
gross and fleshly temptations of a deformed 
gentleman with short legs; or he will grow hot- 
faced and awkward over the narrative of a be- 
trayed milkmaid who enters into all the precise 
details of her wrongs with a more than pernicious 
gusto. 

It is true that he will probably chance upon 
no worse or more revolting circumstances of 



"STRONG" BOOK OF ISHBOSHETH 277 

human life than are dished up for the general 
Improvement of Public Morals in our halfpenny 
dailies; but he will realize, if he be a man of 
sense, that whereas the divorce court and police 
cases in the newspaper are very soon forgotten, 
the impression of a " strong " book, particularly 
if the " strong " parts are elaborately and excru- 
ciatingly insisted upon, lasts, and sometimes leaves 
tracks of indelible mischief on minds which, but 
for its loathsome influence, would have remained 
upright and innocent. Thought creates action. 
An idea is the mainspring of an epoch. There- 
fore the corruptors of thought are responsible for 
corrupt deeds in an individual or a nation. From 
a noble thought — from a selfless pure Ideal — 
what great actions spring! Herein should the 
responsibility of Literature be realized. The 
Ishbosheth, with their " strong " books, have 
their criminal part in the visible putrescence of a 
certain section of society known as the " swagger 
set." 

Perhaps no more forcible illustration of the 
repulsion exercised by nature itself to spiritual 
and literary disease could be furnished than by 
the death of the French " realist " Zola. Capable 
of fine artistic work, he prostituted his powers 
to the lowest grade of thought. From the dust- 
hole of the frail world's ignorance and crime 
he selected his olla-podrida of dirty scrapings, 
potato-peelings, candle-ends, rank fat, and cab- 
bage water, and set them all to seethe in the fire 



278 FREE OPINIONS 

of his brain, till they emitted noxious poison, and 
suffocating vapours, calculated to choke the chan- 
nels of every aspiring mind and idealistic soul. 
Nature revenged herself upon him by permitting 
him to be likewise asphyxiated — only in the most 
prosy and *' realistic " manner. It was one of 
those terribly grim jests which she is fond of 
playing off on those who blaspheme her sacred 
altars. A certain literary aspirant hovering on 
the verge of the circle of the Ishbosheth, com- 
plained the other day of a great omission In the 
biography of one of his dead comrades of the 
pen. *' They should have mentioned,'* he said, 
*' that he allowed his body to swarm with ver- 
min! " This Is true Ishbosheth art. Suppress 
the fact that the dead man had good In him, that 
he might have been famous had he lived, that he 
had some notably strong points In his character, 
but don*t forget, for Heaven's sake, to mention 
the " vermin " ! For the Ishbosheth " cult " see 
nothing In a sunset, but much In a flea. 

Hence when we read the criticism of a 
** strong " book, over the signature of one of the 
Ishbosheth, we know what to expect. All the 
bad, low, villainous and soiled side of sickly or 
insane human nature will be in It, and nothing of 
the healthful or sound. For, to be vicious is to 
be ill — to commit crime Is to be mentally de- 
formed — and the '' strong " book of the Ish- 
bosheth only deals with phases of sickness and 
lunacy. There are other '* strong " books In the 



"STRONG" BOOK OF ISHBOSHETH 279 

world, thank Heaven — strong books which treat 
strongly of noble examples of human life, love 
and endeavour — books like those of Scott and 
Dickens and Bronte and Eliot — books which 
make the world all the better for reading them. 
But they are not books admired of the Ishbosheth. 
And as the Ishbosheth have their centres in the 
current press, they are not praised in the news- 
papers. Binding as the union of the Printers is 
all over the world, I suppose they cannot take 
arms against the Ishbosheth and decline to print 
anything under this Masonic sign? If they could, 
what a purification there would be — what a clean, 
refreshing world of books — and perhaps of men 
and women! No more vicious heroes with short 
legs; no more painfully-injured milkmaids; no 
more " twins," earthly or heavenly — while pos- 
sibly a new Villette might bud and blossom forth 
—another Fortunes of Nigel, another brilliant 
Vanity Fair — and books which contain wit with- 
out nastiness, tenderness without erotics, sim- 
plicity without affectation, and good English with- 
out slang, might once again give glory to litera- 
ture. But this millennium will not be till the 
" strong " book of the Ishbosheth ceases to find 
a publisher, and the Ishbosheth themselves are 
seen In their true colours, and fully recognized by 
the public to be no more than they are — a mere 
group of low sensualists, who haunt Fleet Street 
bars and restaurants, and who out of that sodden 
daily and nightly experience get a few temporary 



28o FREE OPINIONS 

jobs on the Press, and " pose " as a cult and cen- 
sorship of art. And fortunately the very phrase 
** strong book " has become so much their own 
that It has now only to be used in order to warn 
off the public from mere pot-house opinion. 



ON THE MAKING OF LITTLE 
POETS 

GREAT Poets discover themselves. Little 
Poets have to be "discovered" by some- 
body else. Otherwise they would live and 
die in the shadow of decent obscurity, unheard, 
unseen, unknown. And it is seriously open to 
question whether their so living and dying would 
not be an advantage to society in the abating of a 
certain measure of boredom. Looking back upon 
the motley crowd of Little Poets who had their 
day of " discovery " and " boom '' at the very 
period when the thunderous voice of the Muse at 
her grandest was shaking the air through the 
inspired lips of Byron, Shelley and Keats, and not- 
ing to what dusty oblivion their little names and 
lesser works are now relegated without regret, it 
is difficult to understand why they were ever 
dragged from the respectable retirement of com- 
mon-place mediocrity by their critic-contempora- 
ries. Byron was scorned, Shelley neglected, and 
Keats killed by these same critics; — neither of 
the three were " discovered " or " made.'' Their 
creation was not of man, but of their own innate 
God-given genius, and, according to the usual fate 
attending such divine things, the fastidious human 

281 



282 FREE OPINIONS 

dilettante of their day would have none of them. 
He set up his own verse-making Mumbo- Jumbo ; 
and one Pye was Laureate. Pye was Laureate, — 
yet Byron lived, and there was a reigning mon- 
arch in England, strange as these assorted facts 
will seem to all intellectual posterity. For a mon- 
arch's word, — even a prince's word, — must always 
carry a certain weight of influence, and one asks 
wonderingly how, under such circumstances, that 
word came to be left unsaid? No voice from the 
Throne called the three greatest geniuses of the 
era to receive any honour due to their rare gifts 
and quality. On the contrary they were cast out 
as unvalued rubbish from their native land, and 
the Little Poets had their way. Pye continued to 
write maudlin rhymes unmolested, never dream- 
ing that the only memory we should keep of him 
or his twaddle, would be the one scathing line of 
the banished Byron: 

Better to err with Pope than shine with Pye! 

And feeble penny whistles played trumpery tunes 
to the languid votaries of " cultchaw " in those 
days, and penny-whistle verse was voted " classic " 
and supreme; but ever and anon the Nation 
turned a listening ear across the seas and caught 
the music made by its outlawed singers, — music 
it valued even then, and treasures now among 
its priceless and imperishable glories. For the 
Nation knows what true Poetry is, — and no *' dis- 



THE MAKING OF LITTLE POETS 283 

coverer " will ever force it to accept a tallow can- 
dle for a star.' 

The gulf between Great Poets and Little is a 
wide one, — wider than that which yawned between 
Lazarus in heaven and Dives in hell. The Great 
Poet is moved by an inspiration which he himself 
cannot analyse, and in which neither the desire of 
money nor the latent hope of fame have the 
chiefest part. He sings simply because he must 
sing. He does not labour at it, piecing his 
thoughts and words together with the tardy and 
tame patience of a worker in mosaics, for though 
such exact execution be admirable in mosaic-work, 
It Is dull and lifeless In poetry. Colour, fire, 
music, passion and intense, glowing vitality are 
the heritage of the Great Poet ; and when the tor- 
rent of unpremeditated love-song, battle-chant, 
dirge and prophecy pours from his lips, the tired 
world slackens Its pace to listen, and listening, 
silently crowns him Laureate in its heart of hearts, 
regardless of Prime Minister or Court Chamber- 
lain. But the Little Poet Is not able so to win at- 
tention; he cannot sing thus "wildly well" be- 
cause he lacks original voice. He can only trim a 
sorry pipe of reed and play weak echoes thereon; 
derivative twists of thought and borrowed fancies 
caught up from the greater songs already ringing 
through the centuries. And when he first begins 
piping in this lilliputlan fashion he is generally 
very miserable. He pipes "for pence; Ay me, 
how few ! " Nobody listens; people are too much 



2^4 FREE OPINIONS 

engrossed with their own concerns to care about 
echoes. Their attention can only be secured by 
singing them new songs that will stir their pulses 
to new delights. The too-tootling of the Little 
Poet, therefore, would never be noticed at all, even 
by way of derision, unless he went down on all- 
fours and begged somebody to " discover " him. 
The " discoverer " in most cases is a Superannu- 
ated-literary-gentleman, who has tried his own 
hand at poetry and failed ignominiously. Inca- 
pacity to do any good work of one's own fre- 
quently creates a thirsty desire to criticize the work 
of other people ; thus, in the intervals of his impo- 
tent rage at the success of the deserving, the Super- 
annuated, resolved to push himself into notice 
somehow, takes to " discovering " Little Poets. 
It is his poor last bid for fame; a final forlorn 
effort to get his half-ounce of talent to the front 
by tacking it on to some new name which he thinks 
(and he is quite alone in the idea) may by the 
merest chance in the world, like a second-rate 
horse, win a doubtful race. To admire any Great 
Poet who may happen to exist among us, is no 
part of the Superannuated's programme. He 
ignores Great Poets generally, fearing lest the 
mere mention of their names should eclipse his 
dwarfish nurslings. 

Now the public, mistakenly called fools, are 
perfectly aware of the Superannuated. They see 
his signature aflixed to many of the Little Poets 
Booms, and ask each other with smiling tolerance, 



THE MAKING OF LITTLE POETS 285 

"What has he done?" Nothing. ''Oh I Then 
how does h-e know?" Ah, that Is his secret! 
He thinks he knows; and he wants you, excellent 
Fool-Public, to believe he thinks he knows I And, 
under the pleasing delusion that you always have 
your Fool's Cap on, and never take It off under 
any circumstances, he " discovers " Mr. Podgers 
for you. Who Is Mr. Podgers? A poet. If we 
are to credit the Superannuated, he Is " a new star 
on the literary horizon, of the first magnitude." 
The " first magnitude " ! — the public shakes its 
caps and bells In amused scepticism. Another 
Shelley? Another Byron? These were of the 
" first magnitude," and shall we thank a bounteous 
heaven for one more such as these? No, no, 
nothing of the sort, says the Superannuated with 
Indignation, for It Is high time you put this sort of 
Shelley-Byron stuff behind you. Mr. Swinburne 
has distinctly said that " Byron was no poet." 
Learn wisdom, therefore, and turn from Byron to 
Podgers. He has written a little book, has Podg- 
ers, for which those who desire to possess it must 
pay a sum out of all proportion to its size. What 
shall we find In this so-little book? Anything to 
make our hearts beat In more healthful and har- 
monious tune? No. Nothing of this In Podgers. 
Nothing, In fact, of any kind in Podgers which 
we have not heard before. There are a few lines 
that we remember as derived from Wordsworth, 
and one stanza seems to us like a carefully trans- 
posed bit of Tennyson; — but for anything abso- 



286 FREE OPINIONS 

lutely new in thought or In treatment we search in 
vain. Unless we make exception for a set of 
verses which are a tribute to the art of Log-Roil- 
ing, namely Podgers's *' Ode " to Podgers's 
favouring critic. We confess this to be some- 
what of a novelty, and we begin to pity Podgers. 
He must have fallen very low to write (and pub- 
lish) an " Ode " to the Superannuated, his chief 
flatterer on the Press, and he must be very short- 
sighted if he imagines that action is a millstone 
without a hole in it. And so, despite the loud 
eulogies of the Superannuated (who is naturally 
proud to be made the subject of any ^' Ode " how- 
ever feeble), we do not purchase Podgers's book, 
though it is urged upon us as being a " limited " 
edition. But the Superannuated is not herein 
baffled. If, he says, if you are so asinine, so crass, 
so dull and dense of comprehension as to reject 
this marvellous, this classic Podgers, what say you 
to Stodgers? Stodgers is a " young " poet (forty- 
five last birthday), entirely free from "manner" 
and manners. He has resorted to the last and 
lowest method employed by Little Poets for 
obtaining temporary notoriety, namely, — outrag- 
ing decency. Coarseness and blasphemy are the 
prevailing themes of his verse, but to the Superan- 
nuated these grave blemishes constitute " power." 
A " strong " line is a lewd line; a *' masterful " 
stanza contains a prurient suggestion. It suits the 
purpose of the Superannuated to compare his two 
*' discoveries," Podgers and Stodgers, and to work 



THE MAKING OF LITTLE POETS 287 

them against each other In those quarters of the 
Press he controls, like the " toy millers " one buys 
for children. It Is a case of " Podgers come up 
and Stodgers come down," as fits his humour and 
digestion. Meanwhile the vital test of the whole 
matter is that notwithstanding all this energetic 
'' hawking about " of the Little Poets by the Su- 
perannuated, neither Podgers nor Stodgers sell. 
Everything Is done to secure for them this desired 
result; unavallingly. And It is not as if they came 
out In a " common " way, Podgers and Stodgers. 
No publishing-firm with a simple name such as 
Messrs. Smith or Brown would suit the Little 
Poets. They must come out singularly, and apart 
from others. So they elect a publisher who, as It 
were, puts up a sign, as though he were a Tavern. 
" Published at the Dragon's Mouth " or " At the 
Sign of the Flagon " would seem to be more con- 
vincing than '' Published by Messrs. So and So." 
Now Podgers's little book has a fanciful title- 
page stating that It is published at the " Goose and 
Gridiron." Stodgers, we find, bursts upon the 
world at " The Blue Boar." There Is something 
very delusive about all this. A flavour of ale and 
mulled wine creeps Insidiously Into the air, and 
we are moved to yearn for good warm drinks, 
whereas we only get indifferent cold verse. Now 
if the proprietors of the " Goose and Gridiron " 
and the " Blue Boar " would only sell inspiring 
liquids Instead of uninspired rhymes, how their 
trade would improve ! No longer would they 



288 FREE OPINIONS 

bend, lean and furrowed, over their account-books 
— no longer would they have to scheme and 
puzzle over the "making" of Little Poets; be- 
cause it must not be imagined that the Superan- 
nuated " discoverer " is the only one concerned in 
the business. '* Goose and Gridiron " and " Blue 
Boar " have to deal in many small tricks of trade 
to compass it. Of course It is understood that the 
Little Poets get no money out of their productions. 
What they stipulate for with '* Blue Boar " and 
likewise with " Goose and Gridiron '^ Is a " hear- 
ing." This " hearing " is obtained variously. 
Podgers got it In this way as followeth: His 
verses, which had appeared from time to time in 
Sunday papers and magazines, were issued in a 
** limited edition." Such " limited edition " was 
at once dispersed among booksellers In different 
parts of the country " on sale or return," and 
while thus doubtfully awaiting purchasers *' Goose 
and Gridiron " tipped the trade-wink and perhaps 
something else more substantial besides, to the 
Superannuated, — who straightway seized his pen 
and wrote: "We hear that the first edition of 
Mr. Podgers's poems Is exhausted, and that orig- 
inal copies are already at a premium." This done, 
and " passed " through many papers, the pub- 
lisher followed it up with an advertisement to the 
effect that " The first edition of Mr. Podgers's 
poems being exhausted, a Second will be ready in 
a few days." And here, it may as well be said for 
the rectitude of " Goose and Gridiron," things 



THE MAKING OF LITTLE POETS 289 

came to a standstill. Because the Little Poets 
seldom get beyond a second edition. When Podg- 
ers's first editions came back unsold from the prov- 
inces (as they did), attempts were made to dis- 
pose of them at fancy prices as a last resource, — 
such attempts naturally ending in disaster. The 
times are too hard, and people have too much to 
do with their money to part with any of It for first 
editions of Podgers or Stodgers. The public is a 
very shrewd one, moreover, and Is not to be 
" taken In '* by gnat-rhymers dancing up and 
down for an hour In the " discoverer's " artificial 
sunbeams. And the Superannuated in his eager 
desire to assert himself as an oracular personage, 
forgets one very important fact, and this Is, that 
being a Nobody he cannot be accepted as warrant 
for a Somebody. The public is not his child; he 
cannot whip It Into admiring Mr. Podgers, or 
coerce its judgment respecting Mr. Stodgers. Its 
ways are wilful, and It has a ridiculous habit (con- 
sidering what a Fool the critic Imagines It to be) 
of preferring Its own opinion to that of the Super- 
annuated. It is capable. It thinks, what with 
Compulsory Education and the rest of It, of mak- 
ing Its own choice. And on the whole It prefers 
the Great Poets, — the man who scorns to be " dis- 
covered " by an Inferior intellect, and who makes 
his own way Independently and with a grand in- 
difference to the squabbling of Log-rollers. He 
is not " made " ; he forms part of the country's 
blood and life; he chants the national thought 



290 FREE OPINIONS 

in haunting rhythm as did the prophet bards of 
old; he, careless of " pence," praise or fame, does 
so mix himself with his land's history, that he 
becomes, as it were, the very voice of the age in 
which he lives, and the Superannuated may ignore 
him as he will, he cannot get him out of the na- 
tion's heart when he has once got in. But of the 
feeble, absurdly conceited tribe of Little Poets 
who come jostling one upon another nowadays 
in such a puling crowd, piping out their wretchedly 
small personalities in versed pessimism or coarse 
metaphor, — men " made " by the Tavern-pub- 
lisher and the Superannuated Failure; — ^we have 
had enough of these and more than enough. Too 
much good paper, good ink and good binding are 
wasted on their totally undesired productions. 
Life with us now is lived at too hard and too 
difficult a pace for any one to need poetry that Is 
only verse. Hearts break every day in the truest 
sense of that sentimental phrase; brains reel into 
Insanity and the darkness of suicide; and it is no 
Little Poet's personal pangs about " pence " and 
such trifles, that can, like David's harp of old, 
soothe or dismiss the dark spirit brooding over 
the latter-day Saul. It is the Great Poet we care 
for, whose singing-soul mystically comprehends 
our unuttered thoughts of love or glory; who 
chants not only his pains, but ours; not his joy 
so much as the whole world's joy. Such a man 
needs no "discoverer" to prove his existence; 
he is self-evident. When we grow so purblind 



THE MAKING OF LITTLE POETS 291 

as to need a still blinder Mole to point us out the 
sun, then, but not till then shall we require the 
assistance of the Superannuated to " discover " 
what we understand as a Poet. At present we 
are actively conscious both of the orb of day, and 
the true quality of genius; and though the Poet 
we choose for ourselves and silently acknowledge 
as worthy of all honour, may not be, and seldom 
Is, the recommended favourite of a clique, we are 
fully aware of him, and show our love and appre- 
ciation by setting his book among our household 
gods. No " limited edition " will suffice for such 
a man; we need to have his poems singing about 
us wherever we go. For the oft-repeated truth is 
to-day as true as ever, — that the Great Poet is 
*' born," and never has been and never will be 
" made." 



THE PRAYER OF THE SMALL 
COUNTRY M.P. 

WHICH HE PRAYETH DAILY 

OTHOU Especial Little God of Parlia- 
ments and Electors, with whom the greater 
God of the Universe has nothing what- 
ever to do! — I beseech Thee to look upon me, 
Thy chosen servant, with a tolerant and favour- 
able Eye! 

Consider with Leniency the singular and capri- 
cious Chance which has enabled me to become a 
Member of the Government, and grant me Thy 
protection, so that my utter Incapacity for the 
Post may never be discovered ! Enable me, I im- 
plore Thee, to altogether dispense with the assist- 
ance of a certain Journalist and Press-Reporter 
in the composition of my Speeches! His terms 
are high, and I am not sure of his Discretion ! 

Impart unto me by spiritual telegraphy such 
Knowledge of the general Situation of Affairs that 
I may be able to furnish forth an occasional Intel- 
ligent Remark to the farmers of this Constitu- 
ency, whose Loyalty to the Government is as firm 
as their Trust in the Power of Beer ! Give me the 
grace of such shallow Prpfundity and Pretension 
as shall convince Rustic minds of my complete 
Superiority to them in matters concerning their 

292 



PRAYER OF SMALL COUNTRY M.P. 293 

Interest and Welfare; and teach me to use their 
Simplicity for the convenient furtherance of my 
own Cunning! Fill me with such necessary and 
becoming Arrogance as shall make me overbear- 
ingly insolent to Persons of Intellect, while yet 
retaining that sleek affability which shall cause me 
to appear a Fawning Flunkey to Persons of Rank I 
Enable me to so condescendingly patronize the 
Electors who gave me their Majority that it shall 
seem I was returned through Merit only, and not 
through Bribes and Beer ! And mercifully defend 
me, O Beneficent little Deity, from all possibility 
of ever being called upon to address the House! 
I am no speaker, — and even if I were, I have no 
Ideas whereon to hang a fustian sentence ! Thou 
Knowest, All-Knowing-One, that I have not so 
much as an Opinion, save that it is good for me, 
in respect of Social Advantage, to write M.P. after 
my name ! And surely Thou dost also know that 
I have paid Two Thousand Pounds for the pur- 
chase of this small portion of the Alphabet, mak- 
ing One Thousand Pounds per letter, which may 
humbly be submitted to Thee, O Calculating Ruler 
of Parliamentary Elections, as somewhat dear! 

But I have accepted these Conditions and paid 
the Sum without murmuring; therefore of Thy 
goodness, be pleased to spare me from the utter- 
ance of even one word in the presence of my peers, 
concerning any Matter for the Advancement of 
Which I have been elected! For lo, — if I said 
as much as " Xeaj," it might be ill-advised; and 



294 FREE OPINIONS 

yet again, if I said '' Nay," it might be Ul-tlmedl 
Inasmuch as I am compelled to rely on the Jour- 
nalist and Press-Reporter before mentioned, for 
whatsoever knowledge of matters political I pos- 
sess, and it is just possible that he might, — through 
an extra dose of whisky-soda, — mislead me by 
erroneous information! O Lord of Press-Agen- 
cies and Grub Street Eating-Houses, if It be pos- 
sible unto Thee, relieve me of this Man! He 
charges more, so I am credibly Informed, per 
Hundred Words than any other Inventor of Orig- 
inal Eloquence in the pay of the Unlettered and 
Inarticulate of the House! And It Is much to be 
feared that he does not always keep his own Coun- 
sel! Wherefore, gracious Deity, I would be Re- 
leased with all convenient Speed from the Exercise 
of his Power! Rather than be constantly com- 
pelled to rely upon this Journalistic Wretch for 
Advice and Instruction, it will more conduce to 
my Comfort, — though possibly to my Fatigue, — 
to commit to Memory such portions of long-for- 
gotten speeches spoken by Defunct Members of 
the House in the Past, as may be found suitable to 
the present needs of the Rural Population. The 
Corn-growing and Cattle-breeding Electors will 
not know from what Sources I derive my Inspira- 
tion, and the Editor of the Local Newspaper has 
not yet taken a degree in Scholarship. Moreover, 
the Dead are happily unable to send in any Claim 
for Damages against the Theft of their Ideas, 
which are as free to Independent Pilferers as the 



PRAYER OF SMALL COUNTRY M.P. 295 

Original Plots of New and Successful Romances 
are free to the" Dramatizing Robbers In the Stage- 
Purlieus, thanks to the Admirable Attitude of 
Dignified Indolence assumed by that Government 
to which I, one Fool out of Many, have the hon- 
our to belong I 

Finally, O Beneficent Lilliputian Deity which 
governeth matters Parliamentary,— grant me such 
a sufficient amount of highly-respectable Men- 
dacity as shall enable me to pass successfully for 
what I am not, at least, so far as Society In the 
Country Is concerned! Fully aware am I, O Lord, 
that a Simulation of Ability will not always meet 
with approval in Town, though it has been occa- 
sionally known to do so! Therefore I am well 
content to sit In the House as one MUM, thus 
representing through myself an inaudible County ! 
But In the County Itself it shall seem to the Unini- 
tiated that my thoughts are too deep for speech; 
while I retain In my own mind the knowledge of 
the Fact that my Humbug is too great for 
Expression ! 

To Thee, gentle yet capricious Deity, I com- 
mend all my Desires, praying Thee to keep the 
people whom I represent as Dumb and Inert as 
myself in matters concerning their own Welfare, 
for if they should chance to consider the Situation 
by the light of Common Sense, and me by the 
shrewd Appreciation of a Native Wit, it might 
occur to them to prefer a Man rather than a 
Wooden-headed Nonentity to Proclaim their Ex- 



296 FREE OPINIONS 

Istence to the King's faithful Commons! Where- 
fore, at the next General Election I should lose my 
Seat, — which would be Disagreeable to me per- 
sonally, as well as a Cause of Rage In my Wife, 
to whom my present Condition of a Parliamentary 
Microbe Is much more Important and advanta- 
geous than It Is to the Country ! And Thou know- 
est, O Lord, that when my Wife Is moved by 
the Impetuous Persuasion of a difficult Temper, 
it is necessary for me, by reason of her Su- 
perior Height, Size, and Aggressiveness, to retire 
from the domestic FIghtlng-ground, considerably 
worsted In the unequal Combat. Protect me, 
merciful Deity, from her Tongue! — which is as 
a Sword to slay all thoughts of Peace! And, 
concerning the accursed ubiquitous, Journallst- 
Reporter-Paragraphlst-Correspondent-Attached-to- 
all-Newspapers Man, who, for my sins, wrote my 
" speech to the Electors " at a high charge, and 
agreed, — and therefore expects, — to write all my 
other public utterances on the same terms, I be- 
seech Thee, when he next waits upon me with his 
BUI, ready to Counsel or to Command, grant me 
the Strength and Courage to tell a more barefaced 
Lie than is habitual to me, and to boldly say that 
I can do Without him ! 

Amen. 



THE THANKSGIVING OF THE SMALL 
COUNTRY M.P.'S WIFE, 

WHICH SHE OFFERETH WEEK-END-LY 

TO Thee O Bland and Blessed Deity of 
Surplus Cash and Social Advancement, 
whose favours are never bestowed upon 
the Poor or the Wise, but only on the Rich and 
the Foolish, I give praise, honour and glory! 

I thank Thee that Thou hast made of that Su- 
preme Ass, my Husband, a Member of the Gov- 
ernment, so that, despite his utter Lack of Wit 
and Hopeless Incompetency, he may at least pass 
muster for having Brains In a particularly Brain- 
less Constituency I 

I acknowledge Thy mercy and goodness in 
permitting that for the moderate cost of Two 
Thousand Pounds and upwards, — a sum not 
greatly in excess of my dressmaker's annual bill, — 
I may set my foot on the two dumb and prostrate 
Letters of the Alphabet now attached to my said 
Husband's new calling and Election, and may 
mount thereon to those heights of " County " 
Society where, ever since I was born I have eagerly 
thirsted to be I For though " County " Society 
be duller than the fabled Styx, nevertheless the 
leaden weight of its Approval is as necessary to 
297 



298 FREE OPINIONS 

my special comfort and welfare as the Gilded 
chain of office is to the swelling chest of a Pro- 
vincial Mayor. Thou knowest, O little Lord of 
Communities Narrow, Parochial and Politic, that 
I am called even by the Profanest of Press-Re- 
porters " a fine figure of a woman," and that I 
am deserving of Public Notice and Commenda- 
tion, not only for my Physical Attractions, but for 
my Social Qualifications, which, despite the fact 
that Fate has wedded me to a Fool, have enabled 
me to successfully represent the said Fool to his 
bovine Electors as an Intelligent Personality! 
Great is the Tact which is needed to palm ofi a 
Sparrow for an Eagle, a Mouse for an Elephant, 
or a Donkey for a Statesman ! But I swear to 
Thee, O Thou gracious Little Neptune who ruleth 
that Limited Ocean called the " Society Swim," 
that I am equal to all this and more ! Thou seest 
me as I am, a Fashionable Feminine Insincerity I 
Thou beholdest the subtle cleverness of my Social 
Smile, which radiates sweetly upon the faces of 
such persons as I conceive may be useful in Elec- 
tion times, but which fades into a Supercilious 
Sneer when I discover, as I often do, that many of 
these persons are unblushingly ** of NO political 
party," and have no interest whatever in keeping 
my Husband in His Seat! Now if my Husband 
were not in His Seat, I should become that most 
deplorable of human beings, a Provincial Nonen- 
tity! Hence arises my natural and lawful Desire 
that in His Seat my Husband shall remain, inas- 



THE COUNTRY M.P.'S WIFE 299 

much as were he left without a Seat, I should be 
left without a " Set " ! 

But thanks be unto Thee, O Thou amiable and 
complaisant God of the British Social Status, there 
seems to be at present no cause for alarm that the 
Rustics whom my Husband, with unintelligent 
dumbness represents in the House of Commons 
will ever Rise! Chiefly inspired as they are by 
Drugged Beer, it is safe to presume that they will 
not easily awaken from their Public-House Tor- 
por, or in a species of vulgar "horse-play" pull my 
Husband's seat from under him, — even as a lub- 
berly child pulls away a chair from the Unsuspect- 
ing Visitor who would fain sit down upon it, and 
so precipitate my Husband into the unenviable 
rank of Unimportant Provincials! I myself am 
ready to guarantee, — always with Thy support, O 
Favourer of Paid Parliamentary Press-Puffery,— 
that so dire a Catastrophe as this shall not happen ! 
For My weight,— which is both materially and 
mentally Considerable, — ^would have to be thrown 
into the Balance,— whereby the tottering Seat, 
even if partially overthrown, would, and needs 
Must, — ^under the force of my impetuous Clutch, 
— regain the Perpendicular! 

Being by unredeemed nature a Stupid Woman, 
I acknowledge freely and with gratitude Thy 
Omnipotent Guidance in Matters purely Snob- 
bish ! I praise and bless Thee for showing me the 
quickest way out of Things Intellectual into 
Things Conventional I I thank Thee for Thy un- 



300 FREE OPINIONS 

failing assistance afforded to me In the beaten paths 
of *' County ^* Flunkeydom, wherein I walk with 
virtuous circumspection, taking care to leave my 
impressive Visiting-Cards and likewise those of 
my Husband, in Houses only, and never on Peo- 
ple I For People may be dangerous acquaint- 
ances, while Houses never are. A Family Resi- 
dence is always more respectable than a Family! 

I give Thee glory that I am made of such stub- 
born Flesh and Quality as never to recognize that 
any other Woman exists who, by the Inconvenient 
Attributes of Either Beauty, Wit or Intelligence, 
deserves to be considered my Superior, and that 
when any such Intrusive and Obtrusive Female is 
accidentally forced upon my Notice, I have the 
good sense to diplomatically ignore Her. I am 
gratefully conscious that the Meaningless Insipid- 
ity of my Manner has favourably impressed the 
Uneducated Majority of my Husband's Constitu- 
ents. And also, that having once obtained their 
Unreasonable Votes, their Bucolic Lethargy is 
such, that I need do little further to retain their 
Credulous Admiration save to put in an Occa- 
sional Well-Dressed Appearance at a " local " 
Bazaar, or Charity Ball. Concerning any aims or 
hopes they may, in their blundering Dulness, have 
ever entertained towards the Betterment of their 
Condition, and the Representation of these Addle- 
pated desires to His Majesty's Government, I am 
as Profoundly Indifferent as my Husband is Vol- 
untarily Ignorant. For, as the large number of 



THE COUNTRY M.P.'S WIFE 301 

the Faithful Commons are aware, no Act is more 
fatal to the 'Social Prestige and " County " Influ- 
ence of a Member of the House, than that he 
should, when in office, fulfil the Rash Promises 
made to his Electors during a Critical state of the 
Poll! Inasmuch as the only Reasonable object 
to be attained by the Purchase of the Letters M. 
and P. is the Betterment of One's Self and One's 
Social Position on the lines of such Conventional 
Hypocrisies as are agreeable to the Best 
*' County " Houses! For the taking of any bold 
or conspicuous part in any National Matter of 
Interest or Importance has long been sagaciously 
avoided by every " County " Member who desires 
to retain His Seat. And that one Man should do 
what his Colleagues dare not attempt, would be a 
Heroism which, thanks unto Thee, O Prudent 
Presiding Deity of Grandmotherly Westminster, 
is fortunately not to be expected of my Husband ! 

Finally I thank Thee, O Wise and All-Discern- 
ing, for the Gracious Consolation which Thou 
hast imparted unto me in the fact that though my 
Husband is the embodiment of " county " Vacuity, 
the Majority of the King's Faithful Commons 
are as Vacuous as He! For, as in the multitude 
of Ants in an Anthill, One insect more industrious 
or intelligent than the rest is not easily discovered, 
even so, in the goodly array of Stupid Members, 
the Stupidest of them all may conveniently sit in 
his Seat without public Comment I 

And for the Constant Enjoyment of my own 



302 FREE OPINIONS 

Admitted Position among the Tea-Drinking, Fox- 
Hunting and Bucolic elite of the Neighbourhood, 
— for the graceful Ease with which I assume to 
be what I am not, by reason of the Two Letters 
attached to my Husband's Name, which gives 
much more importance to Me than to Him, — and 
for the general comfortable Self-Assertiveness in 
which I live and move and have my being, I bless 
Thee, O Potent little Deity of the Polling-Booth, 
and acknowledge Thy Manifold Mercies I May 
the Seat of my Husband continue firm in Thy 
Sight, unmoved by any Popular Caprice of the 
Vulgar, until such time as my eldest Hopeful Son, 
the very pattern of His Father, shall slip into it 
Unopposed after Him, and so preserve in those 
Unsophisticated Rural Districts whereby we are 
surrounded, the Unblemished Honour of a Unique 
Reputation for Highly Educated Political Incom- 
petence in this Advanced and Enlightened Age I 
Amen. 



THE VANISHING GIFT 

THE unseen rulers of human destiny are, 
on the whole, very kindly Fates. They 
appear beneficently prone to give us mor- 
tals much more than we deserve. Gifts of various 
grace and value are showered upon us incessantly 
through our life's progress, — gifts for which we 
are too often ungrateful, or which we fail to 
appreciate at their true worth. Apart from the 
pleasures of the material senses which we share 
in common with our friends and fellows of the 
brute creation, the more delicate and exquisite 
emotions of the mind are ministered to with 
unfailing and fostering care. Music — poetry, — 
Art in all its brilliant and changeful phases, — 
these things are offered for the delectation of our 
thoughts and the refinements of our tastes; but 
the most priceless boon of the Immortals is the 
talisman which alone enables us to understand the 
beauty of life at Its highest, and the perfection of 
ideals at their best. I mean Imagination, — that 
wonderful spiritual faculty which is the source of 
all the great creative work in Art and Literature. 
Some call it " Inspiraton " ; others the Divine 
Fire; but whatever its nature or quality, there is 
good cause to think — and to fear — that it is 

303 



304 FREE OPINIONS 

gradually dwindling down and disappearing alto- 
gether from the world of to-day. 

The reasons for this are not very far to seek. 
We are living in an age of feverish unrest and 
agitation. If we could picture a twentieth century 
Satan appearing before the Almighty under the 
circumstances described in the Book of Job, to 
answer the question, *' Whence comest thou?" — 
the same reply would suit not only his, but our 
condition — " From going to and fro in the earth, 
and wandering up and down within it." We are 
always going to and fro in these days. We are for- 
ever wandering up and down. Few of us are 
satisfied to remain long in the same place, among 
the same surroundings — and in this way the foun- 
dations of home life, — formerly so noble and firm 
a part of our national strength — are being shaken 
and disorganized. A very great majority of us 
appear to be afflicted with a chronic disease of 
Hurry, which generally breeds a twin ailment — 
Worry. We have no time for anything somehow. 
We seem to be always under the thrall of an in- 
visible policeman, commanding us to " Move on! " 
And we do move on, like the tramps we are be- 
coming. Moreover, we have decided that we 
cannot get over the ground quickly enough on the 
limbs with which Nature originally provided us — 
so we spin along on cycles, and dash about on 
motor cars. And It Is confidently expected that 
by-and-by the mere earth will not be good enough 
for us, and that we shall " scorch " through the 



THE VANISHING GIFT 305 

air — when a great change may be looked for in 
house accommodation. People will return, it is 
said, to a style of the early cave dwellings, in 
order to avoid the massacre likely to be caused by 
tumbling air-ships over which the captains have 
lost control. 

There is something humorous in all this mod- 
ern hurry-skurry ; something almost grotesque In 
this desire for swift movement — this wish to 
save time and to stint work; — but there is some- 
thing infinitely pathetic about it as well. It is as 
If the present Period of the world's civilization 
felt Itself growing old — as if, like an individual 
human unit, it knew itself to be past its prime 
and drawing nigh to death, as If, — ^with the feeble 
restlessness of advancing age, it were seeking to 
cram as much change and amusement as possible 
Into the little time of existence left to it. Two of 
the most notable signs of such mental and moral 
decay are, a morbid craving for Incessant excite- 
ment, and a disinclination to think. It is quite 
a common thing nowadays to hear people say, 
*' Oh, I have no time to think! " — and they seem 
to be more proud than ashamed of their loss of 
mental equilibrium. But it Is very certain that 
where there Is no time to think, there is less time 
to Imagine — and where there Is neither thought 
nor Imagination, creative work of a high and 
lasting quality Is not possible. 

We, in our day, are fortunate In so far that we 
are the Inheritors of all the splendid work accom- 



3o6 FREE OPINIONS 

pllshed in the youth and prime of what we know 
of civilization. No doubt there were immense 
periods beyond our ken, in which the entire round 
of birth, youth, maturity, age and death, was 
fulfilled by countless civilizations whose histories 
are unrecorded — but we can only form the faintest 
guess at this, through the study of old dynasties 
which, ancient as they are, may perhaps be almost 
modern compared to the unknown empires which 
have utterly passed away beyond human discovery. 
But if we care to examine the matter, we shall find 
among all nations, that as soon as a form of civili- 
zation has emerged from barbarism, like a youth 
emerging from childhood, it has entered on its 
career with a glad heart and a poetic soul, — full 
of ideals, and richly endowed with that gift of the 
gods — Imagination. It has invariably expressed 
itself as being reverently conscious of the Highest 
source of all creation; and its utterance through 
all its best work and achievement can be aptly 
summed up in Wordsworth's glorious lines: — 

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting — 

The Soul that rises with us, our life's star ^ 
Hath had elsewhere its setting, 
And Cometh from afar, — 

Not in entire forgetfulness, 

And not in utter nakedness, 

But trailing clouds of glory do we come, 

From God who is our home! 

While these *' trailing clouds of glory " still 
cling to the soul, the limits of this world, — the 



THE VANISHING GIFT 307 

mere dust and grime of material things, — do not 
and cannot satisfy It; It must penetrate Into a 
realm which Is of Its own Idea and Innate percep- 
tion. There It must Itself create a universe, and 
find expression for Its higher thought. To this 
resentful attitude of the soul against mere material- 
ism, we owe all art, all poetry, all music. Every 
great artistic work performed outside the needs of 
material and physical life may be looked upon as 
a spiritual attempt to break open the close walls 
of our earthly prison-house and let a glimpse of 
God's light through. 

As a matter of fact, everything we possess or 
know of to-day. Is the visible outcome of a once 
imagined possibility. It has been very grandly 
said that " the Universe Itself was once a dream 
In the mind of God." So may we say that every 
scientific law, every canon of beauty — every great 
discovery — every splendid accomplishment was 
once a dream in the mind of man. All the 
religions of the world, with their deep, beautiful, 
grand or terrific symbols of life, death and immor- 
tality, have had their origin in the instinctive effort 
of the Soul to detach Itself from the mere earthly, 
and to Imagine something better. In the early 
days, this strong aspiration of humanity towards 
a greater and more lasting good than Its own 
Immediate Interest was displayed In the loftiest 
and purest conceptions of art. The thoughts of the 
*' old-world " period are written in well-nigh 
indelible characters. The colossal architecture of 



3o8 FREE OPINIONS 

the temples of ancient Egypt — and that marvel- 
lous Imaginative creation, the Sphinx, with its 
immutable face of mingled scorn and pity — the 
beautiful classic forms of old Greece and Rome — 
these are all visible evidences of spiritual aspira- 
tion and endeavour, — moreover, they are the 
expression of a broad, reposeful strength, — a 
dignified consciousness of power. The glorious 
poetry of the Hebrew Scriptures — the swing and 
rush of Homer's Iliad, — the stately simplicity and 
profundity of Plato, — these also belong to what 
we know of the youth of the world. And they 
are still a part of the world's most precious pos- 
sessions. We, in our day, can do nothing so great. 
We have neither the Imagination to conceive such 
work, nor the calm force necessary to execute it. 
The artists of a former time laboured with sus- 
tained and tireless, yet tranquil energy; we can 
only produce Imitations of the greater models with 
a vast amount of spasmodic hurry and clamour. 
So, perchance, we shall leave to future generations 
little more than an echo of " much ado about 
nothing." For, truly, we live at present under 
a veritable scourge of mere noise. No king, no 
statesman, no general, no thinker, no writer, is 
allowed to follow the course of his duty or work 
without the shrieking comments of all sorts and 
conditions of uninstructed and misguided persons, 
and under such circumstances it Is well to remem- 
ber the strong lines of our last great poet 
Laureate : — 



THE VANISHING GIFT 309 

Step by step we gain'd a freedom, known to Europe, known to 

all,- 
Step by step we rose to greatness, — through the tonguesters we 

may fall! 

But our chief disablement for high creative 
work, — and one that is particularly noticeable at 
this immediate period of our history, is, as I have 
said, the " vanishing of the gift '* — the lack of 
Imagination. To be wanting In this is to be 
wanting In the first element of artistic greatness. 
The poet, the painter, the sculptor, or the musician 
must be able to make a world of his own and live 
in It, before he can make one for others. When he 
has evolved such a world out of his Individual 
consciousness, and has peopled It with the creations 
of his fancy, he can turn its *' airy substance '' into 
reality for all time. For the things we call 
*' imaginative " are often far more real than what 
we call " realism." All that we touch, taste and 
see, we call *' real." Now we cannot touch, taste 
or see Honour — but surely it is real I We cannot 
weigh out Courage In a solidified parcel — ^yet it 
is an actual thing. So with Imagination — It shows 
us what we may, if we choose, consider " the 
baseless fabric of a vision " — but which often 
proves as real and practical In Its results as Honour 
and Courage. Shakespeare's world is real; — so 
real that there are not wanting certain literary 
Impostors who grudge him Its reality and strive to 
dispossess him of his own. Walter Scott's world 
Is real — so real, that a shrine has been built for 



3IO FREE OPINIONS 

him in Edinburgh, crowded with sculptured figures 
of men and women, most of whom never existed 
save in his teeming fancy. What a tribute to the 
power of Imagination is the beautiful monument 
in the centre of Princes Street, with all the forms 
evoked from one great mind, lifted high above us, 
who consider ourselves " real " people ! And now 
the lesser world of thought is waiting for the dis- 
covery of a Cryptogram in the Waverley Novels, 
which shall prove that King George the Fourth 
wrote them with the assistance of Scott's game- 
keeper, Tom Purdie, — and that his Majesty gave 
Scott a baronetcy on condition that he should never 
divulge the true authorship ! For, according to 
the narrow material limits of some latter-day 
minds, no one man could possibly have written 
Shakespeare's Plays. Therefore it may be equally 
argued that, as there is as much actual work, and 
quite as many characters in the Waverley Novels 
as in the plays of Shakespeare, they could not all 
have emanated from the one brain of Sir Walter 
Scott. Come forward then with a " Waverley 
cryptogram," little mean starvlings of literature 
who would fain attempt to prove a man's work 
is not his own ! There are sure to be some envious 
fools always ready to believe that the great are 
not so great, — the heroic not so heroic, and that 
after all, they, the fools, may be wiser than the 
wisest men! 

In very truth, one of the worst signs of the 
vanishing of the gift of Imagination in these days 



THE VANISHING GIFT 311 

is the utter Inability of the majority of modern 
folk to understand Its value. The creative ease 
and exquisite happiness of an Imaginative soul 
which builds up grand Ideals of life and love and 
immortality with less effort than Is required for 
the act of breathing, seems to be quite beyond 
their comprehension. And so — unfortunately It 
often follows that what Is above them they try to 
pull down, — and what is too large for them to 
grasp, they endeavour to bind within their own 
narrow ring of experience. The attempt Is of 
course useless. We cannot get the planet Venus 
to serve us as a lamp on our dinner table. We 
cannot fit the eagle Into a sparrow's nest. But 
some people are always trying to do this sort of 
thing. And when they find they cannot succeed, 
they fall Into a fit of the spleen, and revile what 
they cannot emiulate. 

There is no surer sign of mental and moral 
decadence than this grudging envy of a great 
fame. For the healthy mind rejoices In the recog- 
nition of genius wherever or whenever It may be 
discovered, and has a keen sense of personal de- 
light In giving merit to all Its due. Hero-worship 
Is a much finer and more Invigorating emotion 
than hero-slander. The Insatiate desire which is 
shown by certain writers nowadays, to pull 
down the great reputations of the past, destroy 
old traditions and cheapen noble attainment, re- 
sembles a sudden outbreak of insane persons who 
strive to smash everything within their reach. It 



312 FREE OPINIONS 

is In its way a form of Imagination, — ^but Imagina- 
tion diseased and demoralized. For Imagination, 
like all other faculties of the brain, can become 
sickly and perverted. When it Is about to die 
it shows — in common with everything else in that 
condition, signs of its dissolution. Such signs of 
feebleness and decay are everywhere visible in 
the world at the present time. They are shown 
In the constant output of decadent and atheistical 
literature — in the decline of music and the drama 
from noble and classic forms to the repulsive 
*' problem " play and the comic opera — in the 
splashy daubing of good canvas called " impres- 
sionist " painting — in the acceptance, or passive 
toleration, of the vilest doggerel verse as 
*' poetry " — and in the wretched return to the 
lowest forms of ignorance displayed in the " fash- 
ionable " craze for palmistry, clairvoyance, crys- 
tal-gazing, and sundry other quite contemptible 
evidences of the most flabby-minded credulity con- 
cerning the grave issues of life and death, — com- 
bined with a most sorrowful, most deplorable 
indifference to the simple and pure teachings of 
the Christian Faith. Even in the Christian Faith 
itself, its chosen ministers seem unable to serve 
their Divine Master without quarrelling over 
trifles, — which Is surely no part of their calling 
and election. 

Everywhere there is a lack of high ideals, — and 
all the arts suffer severely In consequence. Modern 
education itself checks and cramps the growth of 



THE VANISHING GIFT 313 

imaginative originality. The general tendency is 
unhappily towards the basest forms of material- 
ism, and a large majority of people appear to be 
smitten with a paralyzing apathy concerning every- 
thing but the making of money. That art is pur- 
sued with a horrible avidity, to the exclusion of 
every higher and nobler pursuit. Yet it needs 
very little " imagination " to prophesy what the 
end of a nation is bound to be when the unbridled 
fever of avarice once sets in. History has chron- 
icled the ruin of empires from this one cause over 
and over again for our warning; and as Carlyle 
said in his stern and strenuous way — " One thing 
I do know: Never on this earth was the relation 
of man to man long carried on by cash payment 
alone. If at any time a philosophy of Laissez- 
faire, Competition and Supply-and-Demand start 
up as the exponent of human relations, expect that 
it will soon end.'* 

Perhaps some will say that Imagination is not 
a " vanishing gift '' — and that Idealism and 
Romance still exist, at any rate among the Celtic 
races, and in countries such as Scotland, for in- 
stance, the home of so much noble tradition, song 
and story. I wish I could believe this. But un- 
happily the proofs are all against it. If the 
Imaginative Spirit were not decaying in Scotland 
as elsewhere, should we have seen the wanton and 
wicked destruction of one of its fairest scenes of 
natural beauty — the Glen and Fall of Foyers? 
There, where once the clear beautiful cascade 



314 FREE OPINIONS 

whose praises were sung by Robert Burns, dashed 
down In its thundering glory among the heather 
and bracken, there are now felled trees, sorrowful 
blackened stumps, withering ferns and trampled 
flowers, dirty car-tracks, and all the indescribable 
muck which follows in the wake of the merely 
money-grubbing human microbe. And where once 
the pulse was quickened to a sane and healthy 
delight in the grandeur of unspoilt Nature, and 
the mind was uplifted from sordid cares to higher 
contemplation, you are now asked to buy an 
aluminium paper-knife for a shilling I Human 
absurdity can no further go than this. There 
can be little Imagination left In the minds that 
could have tolerated the building of aluminium 
works where Foyers once poured music through 
the glen. 

And it is Instructive to recall the action taken by 
the Belgian people — who are generally supposed 
to be very prosaic; — when some of their beautiful 
scenery on the river Ambleve was threatened with 
similar destruction. Mustering together, three to 
four thousand strong, they took a reduced model 
of the intended factory, burnt it on the spot, and 
threw Its ashes into the river; performing such 
a terror-striking " carmagnole '* of revolt, that 
the authorities were compelled to prohibit the 
erection of the proposed works, for fear of a 
general rising throughout the country. Would 
that such a protest had been offered by the people 
of Scotland against the destruction of Foyers I 



THE VANISHING GIFT 315 

And what of the pitiful ruin of Loch Katrine? — 
once an unspoilt gem of Highland scenery, doubly 
beloved for the sake of Sir Walter Scott's " Lady 
of the Lake"? What of the submerging of 
''Ellen's Isle"? — the ruthless uprooting of that 
" entangled wood " — 

Where Nature scattered, free and wild, 
Each plant or flower, the mountain's child,— 
Here eglantine embalmed the air, 
Heather and hazel mingled there. 



The wanderer's eye could barely view 
The summer heaven's delicious blue — 
So wondrous wild! — the whole might seem 
The scenery of a fairy dream! 

I have been assured on the very best authority 
that all the beauty of Loch Katrine could have 
been left undisturbed, had the Scottish people 
taken any actively determined measures towards 
preserving it. The increasing water-supply neces- 
sary for Glasgow could have been procured from 
Loch Vennachar, which is a larger loch, and quite 
as good for the purpose. Only it would have cost 
more money, and that extra cash was not forth- 
coming, even for Sir Walter's sake I It is a poor 
return to make to the memory of him who did so 
much for the fame of Scotland, to mutilate the 
scene he loved and immortalized! The struggles 
and disasters of the Jacobite Cause, and the defeat 
at Culloden brought more gain than loss to Scot- 



3i6 FREE OPINIONS 

land, by filling the land with glorious song and 
heroic tradition, — the result of the noble idealistic 
spirit which made even failure honourable, — ^but 
the defacement of Loch Katrine, the scene of 
" The Lady of the Lake " is nothing but a dis- 
grace to those who authorized it, and those who 
kept silence while the deed was done. 

But there are yet other signs and tokens of the 
disappearance of that idealistic and romantic spirit 
In Scotland, which has more than anything, helped 
to make Its history such a brilliant chronicle of 
heroism^ and honour. There are " a certain class '* 
of Scottish people who are ashamed of the Scotch 
accent, and who affect to be unable to read any- 
thing written In the Scotch dialect. I am told — 
though I would hope it is not true — that the 
larger majority of Scottish ladles object to Scotch 
music, and do not know any Scotch songs. If this 
is true of any " certain class " of Scottish people, 
I am sorry for them. They have fallen down a 
long way from the height where birth and country 
placed them ! I should like to talk to any Scot, 
man or woman, who is ashamed of the Scotch ac- 
cent. As well be ashamed of the mountain 
heather! I should like to Interview any renegade 
son or daughter of the Celtic race, who Is not 
proud of every drop of Celtic blood, every word 
and line of Celtic tradition, — every sweet song 
that expresses the Celtic character. Nothing that 
is purely national should be set aside or allowed 
to perish. It Is a thousand pities that the old 



THE VANISHING GIFT 317 

Gaelic speech is dying out in the Highlands, along 
with the picturesque " plaid " and " bonnet " of 
the Highland shepherds. The Gaelic language is 
a rich and copious one, and should be kept up In 
every Scottish school and University. Some of 
the Gaelic music, too, is the most beautiful in the 
world, — and many a so-called '* original " com- 
poser has taken the theme for an overture or a 
symphony from an ancient, long-forgotten Gaelic 
tune. A fine spirit of romance and idealism is the 
natural heritage of the Celtic race; — far too 
precious a birthright to be exchanged for the 
languid Indifferentism of latter-day London 
fashion, which too often makes a jest of noble 
enthusiasm, and which would, no doubt, call Sir 
Walter Scott's fine novel of The Heart of Midlo- 
thian " kailyard literature '•' — if it dared! 

And who that understands anything about music 
IS so foolish and ignorant as to despise a Scottish 
song? Where can we match, in all song literature, 
the songs of Robert Burns? What German 
" lied " — what French or Italian " canzonet " or 
" chansonette " expresses such real human tender- 
ness as " Of a' the airts " or '' My Nannie O! "? 
And it should be remembered that the Imaginative 
pathos of the Scottish song has its other side of 
imaginative humour — sly, dry humour, such as 
cannot be rivalled in any language or dialect of 
the world. And in spite of the incredible asser- 
tion that they are beginning to despise their native 
Doric, there are surely few real Scotsmen who, 



3i8 FREE OPINIONS 

even at this time of day fall to understand the 
whimsical satire of the famous old Jacobite song: 

Wha the deil hae we gotten for a king 

But a wee, wee German lairdie, 
An' he's brought fouth o' foreign trash 

An' dibbled it in his yairdie, — 
He's pu'd the rose o' England loons 
An' broken the harp o' Irish clowns — 
But our Scotch thistle will jag his thumbs! 
The wee, wee German lairdie! 

We shall not find anything of a bilious nature in 
a Scottish love-song. We shall not hear the swain 
asking his lady-love to meet him " in some sky/* 
or " when the hay is in the mow," or any other 
vaguely indefinite place or period. The Scottish 
lover appears, — if we may judge him by his native 
song, — to be supremely healthy in his sentiments, 
and gratefully conscious of the excellence of both 
life and love. He takes even poverty with a light 
heart, and does not grizzle over it in trickling 
tears of dismal melody. No; he says simply and 
cheerily : 

My riches a' my penny fee, 

An* I maun guide it cannie O, — 
But this world's gear ne'er fashes me, — 

My thoughts are a' my Nannie O! 

It will be a sad day indeed when this spirit of 
wholesome, tender and poetic imagination drifts 
away altogether from Scotland. We must not 
forget that the Scottish race has taken a very firm 
root in the New World Beyond Seas, — and that 



THE VANISHING GIFT 319 

out in Canada and Australia and South Africa the 
memories and the traditions of home are dear to 
the hearts of thousands who call Scotland their 
mother. Surely they should be privileged to feel 
that in their beautiful ancestral land, the old proud 
spirit is still kept up, — the old legends, the old 
language, the old songs, — all the old associations, 
which — far away as they are forced to dwell — • 
they can still hand down to their children and their 
children's children. No king, — no statesman, can 
do for a country what its romancists and poets 
can, — for the sovereignty of the truly inspired 
and imaginative soul is supreme, and as far above 
all other earthly dominion as the fame of Homer 
Is above the conquests of Alexander. And when 
the last touch of idealistic fancy and poetic senti- 
ment has been crushed 'out of us, and only the 
dry husks of realism are left to feed swine withal, 
then may we look for the end of everything that 
is worth cherishing and fighting for in our much 
boasted civilization. 

For with the vanishing gift, vanish many other 
things, which may be called In the quaint phrasing 
of an Elizabethan writer, " a bundle of good 
graces." The chivalrous spirit of man towards 
woman is one of those " good graces " which is 
rapidly disappearing. Hospitality Is another 
" good grace " which is on the wane. The art of 
conversation is almost a lost one. People talk as 
they ride bicycles — at a rush — without pausing 
to consider their surroundings. Elegant manners 



320 FREE OPINIONS 

are also at a discount. The " scorching," steam- 
ing, spasmodic motor man-animal does not inspire 
reverence. The smoking, slangy, horsey, betting 
woman-animal is not a graceful object. In the 
days of classic Greece and Rome, men and women 
" imagined " themselves to be descended from the 
gods; — and however extravagant the idea, it was 
likely to breed more dignity and beauty of con- 
duct than if they had " Imagined " themselves 
descended from apes. A nation rounds itself to 
an Ideal, as the clay forms into shape on a potter's 
wheel. It Is well, therefore, to see that the Ideal 
be pure and lofty, and not a mere Golden Image 
like that set up by King Nebuchadnezzar, who 
ended his days by eating grass, — possibly thistles. 
Some of our public men might perhaps be better 
for a little more Imagination, and a little less red 
tape. It might take them healthfully out of them- 
selves. For most of them seem burdened with an 
absurd self-consciousness, which Is apt to limit the 
extent of their view out on public affairs. Others 
again are afflicted by the hedge-hog quality of 
*' stand-offishness " which they unfortunately mis- 
take for dignity. And others affect to despise 
public opinion, and have a curious habit of over- 
looking the fact that it is the much-abused public 
which sets them In office and pays to keep them 
there. Their Ideal of public life and service 
partakes too much of Self to be nobly National. 

What, after all, is Imagination? It is a great 
many things. It is a sense of beauty and har- 



THE VANISHING GIFT 321 

mony. It is an instinct of poetry and prophecy. 
A Persian poet describes it as an immortal sense 
of memory which Is always striving to recall the 
beautiful things the Soul has lost. Another fancy, 
also from the East, is that it is " an Instinctive 
premonition of beautiful things to come.'^ An- 
other, which is perhaps the most accurate descrip- 
tion of all, is that it is " the Sun-dial of the Soul 
on which God flashes the true time of day." This 
is true, if we bear In mind that Imagination is 
always ahead of Science, pointing out In advance 
the great discovery to come. Shakespeare fore- 
told the whole science of geology in three words 
— '' Sermons in stones," — and the vast business 
of the electric telegraph in one line — " I'll put a 
girdle round the earth in forty minutes." One 
of the Hebrew prophets '" Imagined " the phono- 
graph when he wrote " Declare unto me the image 
of a voice." As we all know, the marks on the 
wax cylinder in a phonograph are " the image of 
a voice." The air-ship may prove a very marvel- 
lous Invention, but the imagination which saw 
Aladdin's palace flying from one country to 
another was long before it. All the genii in the 
Arabian Nights stories were only the symbols of 
the elements which man might control if he but 
rubbed the lamp of his intelligence smartly enough. 
Every fairy tale has a meaning; every legend a 
lesson. The submarine boat In perfection has 
been " imagined " by Jules Verne. W^Ireless teleg- 
raphy appears to have been known In the very 



322 FREE OPINIONS 

remote days of Egypt, for In a rare old book 
called The History of the Pyramids translated 
from the Arabic, and published In France In 1672, 
we find an account of a certain high priest of 
Memphis named Saurld, — who, so says the ancient 
Arabian chronicler, " prepared for himself a 
casket wherein he put magic fire, and shutting him- 
self up with the casket, he sent messages with the 
fire day and night, over land and sea, to all those 
priests over whom he had command, so that all 
the people should be made subject to his will. 
And he received answers to his messages without 
stop or stay, and none could hold or see the run- 
ning fire, so that all the land was in fear by reason 
of the knowledge of Saurid." In the same volume 
we find that a priestess named Borsa evidently 
used the telephone. For, according to her history, 
" She applied her mouth and ears unto pipes In 
the wall of her dwelling, and so heard and 
answered the requests of the people in the distant 
city." 

Thus It would seem that there Is nothing new 
under the sun to that " dainty Ariel " of the mind, 
Imagination. It sees all present things at a glance, 
and foretells what Is yet to come. It may well 
be called the Sun-dial of the Soul; but It is a Dial 
that must be kept sound and clean. There must 
be no crack In It, — It must not be allowed to get 
overgrown with the slimy mosses and rank weeds 
of selfishness and personal prejudice, — the Index 
hand must be firmly set, — and none of the 



THE VANISHING GIFT 323 

numeral figures must be missing! So, perchance, 
shall God fla§h the true time of day upon it, for 
such as will hold themselves free to mark the 
Hour according to His will. And for those who 
do thus hold themselves free, — for those who care 
to keep this precious Sun-dial clear and clean in 
their souls, there shall always be light and love, — 
and such clear reflections of divine beauty and 
peace as are described by the " Ettrick Shepherd " 
in his story of Kilmeny in Fairyland: 

For Kilmeny had been, she knew not where, 
And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare ; 
But it seemed as the harp of the sky had rung. 
And the airs of heaven played round her tongue ! 



THE POWER OF THE PEN 

THE dignity of Literature is, or used to 
be, something more than a mere phrase. 
Days there were in the long-ago when the 
thinkers and writers of a nation were held to be 
worthy of higher honour than trade-kings and 
stock-jobbers, — when each one shone out *' a 
bright particular star " of genius, frankly owned 
as an object of admiration in the literary firma- 
ment. At that time there was no ^* syndicated " 
press. The followers and disciples of Literature 
were not all herded together, as it were, in a kind 
of scribbling trades-union. The poet, the novel- 
ist, the essayist, — each one of these moved in his 
or her own appointed orbit, and their differing 
special ways of handling the topics of their time 
served to interest, charm and stimulate the intel- 
ligences of people who were cultured and appre- 
ciative enough to understand and honour their 
efforts. But now things are greatly changed. 
What has been generally understood as " cul- 
tured " society is rapidly deteriorating into base- 
ness and voluntary ignorance. The profession of 
letters is so little understood, and so far from 
being seriously appreciated, that responsible edi- 
tors will accept and publish magazine articles by 
women of *' title " and " fashion," who prove 

324 



THE POWER OF THE PEN 325 

themselves as ignorant of grammar as they are 
of spelling. The printer's reader corrects the 
spelling, but the grammar is generally left as 
its " aristocratic " writer penned it, in majes- 
tic incompleteness. The newspapers are full, not 
of thoughtful, honestly expressed public opin- 
ion on the affairs of the nation, but of vapid 
" personalities," interesting to none save gossips 
and busy-bodies. A lamentable lack of strength 
is apparent in the whole "tone" of modern 
Literature, together with a still more lamentable 
lack of wit. All topics, say the pessimists, are 
exhausted. The quarrels of politicians have 
exhausted earth,— the recriminations of the 
Churches have exhausted Heaven, — and the bold 
immoralities of society have, almost, if not quite, 
exhausted Hell. Yet there is a topic which still 
seems to me to hold in itself a great many of the 
pleasures of earth and heaven— with perhaps a 
touch of the other nameless place also — the Power 
of the Pen. It remains, I think, even in these 
days, the greatest power for good or evil in the 
world. With the little instrument which rests so 
lightly in the hand, whole nations can be moved. 
It is nothing to look at; generally speaking it is 
a mere bit of wood with a nib at the end of it — 
but when it is poised between thumb and finger, 
it becomes a living thing— it moves with the pul- 
sations of the loving heart and thinking brain, 
and writes down, almost unconsciously, the 
thoughts that live — the words that burn. 



326 FREE OPINIONS 

To the power of the Pen we owe our laws, our 
government, our civilization, our very religion. 
For without It we should have no Bible — no New 
Testament. Our histories, our classics, our 
philosophies, our poetry would all be lost with 
their originators. We should not know that 
Julius Caesar ever walked on the shores of 
Britain, or that Nero fiddled while Rome was 
burning. In fact we should still be in the dark 
ages, without so much as a dream of the magnifi- 
cent era of progress through which we have come, 
and in which we, of this present generation, have 
our glorious share. And so I think and venture 
to say that the power of the Pen is one which 
commands more millions of human beings than 
any monarch's rule, and that the profession of the 
pen, called Literature, is the greatest, the highest, 
and the noblest that is open to aspiring ambition. 
Empires, thrones, commerce, war, politics, society 
— these things last but their brief hour — the 
Power of the Pen takes note of them as they pass 
— but outlives them all! 

We should know nothing to-day of the gran- 
deurs of old Egypt, or the histories of her for- 
gotten kings, if it were not for the Rosetta stone — 
on which the engraver's instrument, serving as a 
pen, wrote the Egyptian hieroglyphics beside the 
Greek characters, thus giving us the clue to the 
buried secrets of a long past great civilization. 
The classic land of Greece, once foremost in all 
things which make nations great, particularly In 



THE POWER OF THE PEN 327 

the valour and victorious deeds of her military 
heroes, has almost forgotten her ancient glory- 
she might perhaps be forgotten by other nations 
altogether in the constant springing up of new 
countries and peoples if it were not for Homer! 
The blind, despised old man, who sang her golden 
days of pride and conquest, still keeps her meniory 
green ! And let us not forget that other glorious 
poet, who laid his laurel-wreath and life upon 
her shrine — our own immortal Byron — whose 
splendid lyric, " The Isles of Greece " may stand 
beside the finest lines of Homer, and not be 
shamed 1 

What does all Italy and particularly Florence, 
make chief boasts of to-day? Not commerce, not 
wealth — simply Dante! In his lifetime he was 
made a subject for hatred and derision — he was 
scorned, cast out, and exiled by his fellow-towns- 
folk — yet now he is the great glory of his native 
city which claims respect from all the world for 
having been the birthplace of so supreme a soul. 
So, even after death, the Power of the Pen takes 
its revenge and ensures its just recognition. 

Yet there are many workers in Literature who 
say that the Power of the Pen gives them no joy 
at all,— that it is a " grind,"— that it Is full of 
disappointment and bitterness, and that they never 
get paid enough for what they do. This last is 
always a very sore point with them. They brood 
on it, and consider It so often, that by and by the 
question of how much or how little payment they 



328 FREE OPINIONS 

get, becomes the only way In which they regard 
their profession. It Is the wrong way. It Is the 
way that leads straight to biliousness and chronic 
dyspepsia. It is not my way. To me, what little 
power of the pen I possess, is a magic talisman 
which I would not exchange for millions of money. 
It makes life beautiful for me — it Intensifies and 
transfigures all events and Incidents — it shows me 
a whole history In the face of a child — a whole 
volume of poetry and philosophy in the cup of 
a flower. It enables me to see the loveliness of 
nature with keener and more appreciative grati- 
tude — and it fills me with an Inward happiness 
which no outward circumstance can destroy. 

Of course just payment is to be demanded and 
expected for every kind of work. The rule of 
" give and take " holds good In all classes of 
employment. Each author's power of the pen 
commands Its price according to the value set upon 
it by the public. But I, personally, have refused 
many considerable sums of money offered to me 
if I would consent to " work up " or " bring for- 
ward " certain schemes and subjects with which 
I have no sympathy. The largest cheque would 
never tempt me to write against my own inclina- 
tion. If I were given such a choice as this — to 
write something entirely opposed to my own feel- 
ing and conscience for a thousand pounds, or 
to write my honest thought for nothing, I would 
write my honest thought, and let the thousand 
pounds go. I am glad to say that some of my 



THE POWER OF THE PEN 329 

contemporaries are with me in this particular 
form of literary faith — but not as many as for 
the honour of our calling, I could desire. 

Then again, there is that vexed question of — 
the Public ! I have often noticed, with a humility 
too deep for words, that all the great modern 
writers, or, I should say, all those who consider 
themselves the greatest, have a lofty contempt for 
the public. *' ' He,' or * she ' writes for the 
Public,'* is a remark which, when spoken with a 
withering sneer, is supposed to have the effect of 
completely crushing the ambitious scribbler whose 
Power of the Pen has attracted some little atten- 
tion. Now if authors are not to write for the 
Public, who are they to write for? Certain of the 
" superior " folk among them will say that they 
write " for posterity." But then. Posterity is also 
the Public! I really do not see how either the 
great or the small author is to get away from the 
Public anyhow! There is only one means of 
escape, and that is — not to write at all. But if 
those to whom the Power of the Pen Is given, 
wish to claim and use their highest privileges, they 
will work always for the public, and try to win 
their laurels from the public alone. Not by the 
voice of any " clique," " club," or " set " will 
Time accept the final verdict of an author's great- 
ness, but by the love and honour of an entire 
people. Because, whatever passing surface fancies 
may for awhile affect the public humour, the 
central soul of a nation always strives for Right, 



330 FREE OPINIONS 

for Justice, and for final Good, and the author 
whose Power of the Pen helps strongly, boldly, 
and faithfully on towards these great ends, is not, 
and shall not be, easily forgotten ! 

I hope and I believe, that it is only a few 
shallow, ignorant and unsuccessful persons — 
fancying perhaps that they have the Power of the 
Pen when they have it not — who, in their disap- 
pointment, take a sort of doleful comfort in 
" posing " as unrecognized geniuses, whose quality 
of thought is too fine, — they would say too 
" subtle " — for the public taste. For, in my hum- 
ble opinion, nothing is too good for the Public. 
They deserve the very best they can get. No 
" scamp " work should ever be offered to them. 
If a poet sings, let him sing his sweetest for them; 
if a painter paints pictures, let him give them his 
finest skill; if an author writes stories, essays or 
romances, let him do his very utmost to charm, 
to instruct, to awaken their thought and excite 
their interest. It is not a wise thing to start 
writing for " posterity." Because, if the present 
Public will have nothing to do with you, it is 
ten to one whether the future will. All our great 
authors have worked for the public of their own 
immediate time, without any egotistical calcula- 
tions as to their possible wider appreciation after 
death. 

The greatest poet In the world, William Shake- 
speare, was, from all we can gather, an unaffected, 
cheery, straightforward Warwickshire man, who 



THE POWER OF THE PEN 331 

wrote plays to please the Public who went to the 
Globe Theatre. He did not say he was too good 
for the Public; he worked for the Public. He 
attached so little importance to his own genius, 
that he made no mention of his work in his will. 
So we may fairly judge that he never dreamed of 
the future splendour of his fame — when, three 
hundred years after his death, every civilized coun- 
try in the world would have societies founded in 
his name; when, year after year, new discussions 
would be opened up concerning his Plays, new 
actors would be busy working hard to represent 
his characters, and, strangest compliment of all, 
when envious persons would turn up to say his 
work was not his own! For when genius is so 
varying and brilliant that a certain section of the 
narrow-minded cannot understand its many-sided 
points of view, and will not believe that it is the 
inheritance of one human brain, then it Is great 
Indeed! Three hundred years hence there will, 
no doubt, be other people to announce to the 
world that Walter Scott did not, and could not, 
write the Waverley Novels. For they are — In 
their own special way — as great as the plays of 
Shakespeare. He, too, was one of those who 
wrote for the Public. With his magic wand he 
touched the wild mountains, lakes and glens of his 
native land, and transfigured them with the light 
and romance and beauty for ever. Can we im- 
agine Scotland without Walter Scott and Robert 
Burns? No! Their power of the pen rules the 



332 FREE OPINIONS 

whole country, and gives It over the heads of mon- 
archs a free fairy kingdom to all classes and peo- 
ples who have the wish and will possess it. There 
are certain superior people nowadays who declare 
that Walter Scott is " old-fashioned," and that 
they, for their parts, cannot read his novels. Well, 
I grant that Walter Scott is old-fashioned — as old- 
fashioned as the sunshine — and just as wholesome. 
He lived In a time when men still reverenced 
women, and when women gave men cause for rev- 
erence. I think If he could be among us now, and 
see the change that has come over society since his 
day, he would scarcely have the heart to write at 
all. 

The idolatry of wealth — the servile worship 
of the newest millionaire — would hardly Inspire 
his pen, save perhaps to sorrow and Indignation. 
But If he were with us and did write for us, I am 
sure he would employ some of his great power to 
protest against the lack of fine feeling, gentleness, 
forbearance and courtesy which unfortunately 
marks much of our latter-day society. I think he 
would have had something to say about the school- 
girl who smokes, — I fancy his mind might have 
revolted against the skirt-dancing peeress ! I think 
he would implore women not to part with their 
chief charm — womanliness — and I am sure he 
would be very sorry to see children of ten and 
eleven so deplorably " advanced '* as to be unable 
to appreciate a fairy tale. 

And what of dear Charles Dickens — he, whom 



THE POWER OF THE PEN 333 

certain superfine persons who read Yellow Jour- 
nalism presume to call "vulgar"? Is love, is 
pity, is tenderness, is faith "vulgar"? Is kind- 
ness to the poor, patience with the suffering, toler- 
ance for all men and all creeds " vulgar " ? If 
so, then Charles Dickens was vulgar! — not a 
doubt of it I Few authors have ever been so 
blessedly, gloriously " vulgar " as he I What mar- 
vellous pictures his " power of the pen " conjures 
up at once before our eyes! — pathetic, playful, 
humorous, thrilling — rising to grandeur in such 
scenes as the shipwreck in David Copperfield; or 
that wonderful piece of description In the Tale 
of Two Cities, when the tramping feet of the 
Spirit of the French Revolution sweep past In 
the silence of the night ! Match us such a passage 
in any literature past or present! It Is unique In 
Its own way — as unique as all great work must be. 
There is nothing quite like It, and never will be 
anything quite like it. And when we " go " with 
such great authors as these — and by this I mean, 
when we are determined to be one with them — 
we shall win such victories over our hearts and 
minds, our passions and desires, as shall make us 
better and stronger men and women. 

And this brings me to a point which I have 
often earnestly considered. One cannot help no- 
ticing that the present system of education Is fast 
doing away with two great ingredients for the 
thorough enjoyment of life, and especially the 
enjoyment of Literature — Imagination and Ap- 



334 FREE OPINIONS 

preciation. To the school-boy or school-girl who 
is *' coached " or " crammed," the gates of fairy- 
land and romance are shut with a bang. I had 
once the pleasure of entertaining at my house a 
small gentleman of eleven, fresh from his Lon- 
don College — he was indifferent to, or weary of 
life; things generally, were a "bore," and he 
expressed his opinion of fairy tales in one brief 
word, " Rot! " Now altogether apart from that 
most revolting expression, which is becoming of 
frequent use, especially in the " upper circles," it 
seemed to me a real misfortune to consider, that 
for this child, Hans Andersen was a sealed book, 
and the wonders and beauties of the Arabian 
Nights a lost world. And in the same way I pity 
the older children — the grown men and women, 
who cannot give themselves up to the charm or 
terror of a book completely and ungrudgingly — 
who approach their authors with a carping hesita- 
tion and a doubtful preparatory sneer. By so 
doing they shut against themselves the gate of a 
whole garden of delights. Imagination is the 
supreme endowment of the poet and romancist. 
It is a kind of second sight, which conveys the 
owner of it to places he has never seen, and sur- 
rounds him with strange circumstances of which 
he is merely the spiritual eye-witness. One of the 
most foolish notions prevalent nowadays is that 
an author must personally go and visit the place 
he intends to describe. Nothing is more fatal. 
For accuracy of detail, we can consult a guide 



THE POWER OF THE PEN 335 

book — but for a complete picture which shall im- 
press us all 6uT lives long, we must go to the in- 
spired author whose prescience or second-sight 
enables him to be something more than a mere 
Baedeker. Endless examples of this second-sight 
faculty could be given. Take Shakespeare as the 
best of them. He could never have personally 
known Antony and Cleopatra. He did not live 
In the time of Julius Cassar. He was not guilty 
of murder because he described a murder In Mac- 
beth. He could not have been a *' fellow-stu- 
dent " of Hamlet's. And where do you suppose, 
among the grim realities of life, he could have 
met those exquisite creations, Ariel and Puck, if 
not In the heaven of his own peerless Imagination, 
borne to him on the brilliant wings of his own 
thought, to take shape and form, and stay with us 
in our English language for ever I Walter Scott 
had never seen Switzerland when he wrote Anne 
of Gierstein, Thomas Moore never visited the 
East, yet he wrote Lalla Rookh. Charles Dick- 
ens never fought a duel, and never saw one fought, 
yet the duel between Mr. Chester and Haredale 
in Barnahy Riidge is one of the finest things ever 
written. Because an author Is able to describe a 
certain circumstance, it does not follow that he or 
she has experienced that very circumstance person- 
ally. Very often It may be quite the contrary. The 
most romantic descriptions in novels have often 
been written by people leading very hum-drum 
quiet lives of their own. We have only to think 



336 FREE OPINIONS 

of Jane Eyre^ and to remember the prosy, dull 
days passed by its author, Charlotte Bronte. 

To refer once more to Hans Andersen — we all 
know that he never could have seen a Dresden 
China shepherdess eloping up the chimney with a 
Dresden China sweep. We know he never saw 
that dainty little shepherdess weeping on the top 
of a chimney because the world was so large, and 
because all her gilding was coming off. But when 
we are reading that fantastic little story, we feel 
he must have seen it somehow, and we are con- 
scious of a slight vexation that we never see such 
a curious and delightful elopement ourselves. This 
is a phase of the power of the pen — to make 
the beautiful, the quaint, the terrible, or the won- 
derful things of imagination seem an absolute 
reality. 

But to get all the enjoyment out of an author's 
imagination, we, who read his books, must our- 
selves " imagine " with him. We must let him 
take us where he will ; we must not draw back and 
refuse to go with him. We must not approach 
him in a carping spirit, or make up our minds be- 
fore opening his book, that we shall not like it. 
We should not allow our particular views of life, 
or our pet prejudices to intervene between our- 
selves and the writer whose power of the pen may 
teach us something new. And above all things, 
we should prepare ourselves to appreciate — not to 
depreciate. Nothing is easier than to find fault. 
[The cheapest sort of mind can do that. The dirty 



THE POWER OF THE PEN 337 

little street-boy can enter the British Museum and 
find fault with the Pallas Athene. But the Pallas 
Athene remains the same. To be Pallas Athene Is 
sufficient. The power of appreciation is a great 
test of character. To appreciate warmly, even 
enthusiastically, is generally the proof of a kind 
and sunny disposition; to depreciate Is to be in 
yourself but a sad soul at best ! For depreciation 
in one thing leads to depreciation in another; and 
by and by the daily depredator finds himself de- 
preciating his Maker, and wondering why he was 
ever born I And he will never find an answer to 
that question till he changes his humour and be- 
gins to appreciate; then, and only then, will life 
explain Its brightest meaning. 

Of course, when vulgarity, coarseness, slang, 
and ribaldry are set forward as " attractions '* In 
certain books and newspapers, it is necessary to 
depreciate what Is not the power of the pen, but 
the abuse of the pen. Such abuse is easily recog- 
nizable. The libellous paragraph, the personal 
sneer, the society scandal — there Is no need to 
enumerate them. But we do not call the writers 
of these things authors, or even journalists. They 
are merely on a par with the anonymous letter- 
writer whom all classes of society agree in regard- 
ing as the most contemptible creature alive. And 
they do not come at all under the heading of the 
power of the pen, their only strength being 
weakness. 

I have already said that I believe the Power of 



338 FREE OPINIONS 

the Pen to be the greatest power for good or evil 
in the world. And I may add that this power is 
never more apparent than in the Press. The Press 
nowadays is not a literary press; classic diction 
and brilliancy of style do not distinguish it by any 
means. It would be difficult to find a single news- 
paper or magazine to which we could turn for a 
lesson in pure and elegant English, such as that of 
Addison, Steele or Macaulay. But in the Scott or 
Byron days, the Press was literary to a very great 
extent, and as a natural consequence it had a pow- 
erful influence on the success or failure of an au- 
thor's work. That influence is past. Its work to- 
day deals, not with books, but with nations. 

National education, progressing steadily for 
years, has taught the Public to make up its own 
mind more quickly than ever it did before, as re- 
gards the books it reads. It will take what it 
wants and leave the rest ; and the Press can neither 
persuade it nor repel it against its own inclination. 
So that the author in these days has more difficul- 
ties and responsibilities than in the past. He has 
to fight his battle alone. He has many more rivals 
to compete with, and many more readers to please. 
And the Press cannot help him. The Press may 
recommend, may even "boom" his work; but 
several instances have occurred lately where such 
recommendation has not been accepted. For 
sometimes the Public fight shy of a " boom." 
They think it has been worked up by the author's 
friends, and they are not always mistaken. And 



THE POWER OF THE PEN 339 

they silently express the fact that they are quite 
capable of choosing the books they wish to read, 
without advice or assistance. This being the case, 
the Press is beginning to leave books and authors 
alone to shift for themselves as best they may, and 
is turning to other pastime. Nations, peoples, 
governments ! These are the great footballs it 
occasionally kicks in the struggle for journalistic 
pre-eminence. And I hope I shall not be misun- 
derstood if I venture to say that it is a somewhat 
dangerous game ! Because, however powerful the 
Press may be, it is not the People. It is the printed 
opinion of certain editors and their staff. The 
People are outside it altogether. And if some 
one on the Press insults a monarch or a nation, 
that insult should not be taken as a People's insult. 
It is the insult of the editor or proprietor who de- 
liberately allows it to be printed in the particular 
journal he controls. 

It is a thousand pities, for example, that a sec- 
tion of the lower boulevard press in Paris should 
be accepted in any quarter, as being representative 
of the feeling of the whole French people. When 
flippant and irresponsible newspaper scribes resort 
to calumny for the sake of notoriety, they prove 
themselves unworthy to be trusted with the Power 
ot the Pen. In any case it can only be a God- 
forsaken creature who seeks to earn his living by 
scurrility. Such an one may excite individual con- 
tempt, but does not merit the notice of a great 
nation. 



340 FREE OPINIONS 

As an author and as a lover of literature, I care 
very much for the honour and dignity of the 
British Press, and I cannot but earnestly deprecate 
the too free exchange of petty or malicious innu- 
endo between foreign and English writers in their 
various respective journals. Bismarck used to say 
" The windows which our Press breaks we shall 
have to pay for." The power of the pen is abused 
when such windows are broken as can only be 
mended by the sufferings of nations. If France 
or Germany sneers at us, or misreads our inten- 
tions, I do not see that we are called upon to sneer 
at them in return. That is mere schoolboy con- 
duct. Our dignity should shame their flippancy. 
The Press of such an empire as Great Britain can 
afford to be magnanimous and dignified. It is 
too big and strong a boy to throw stones at its 
little brothers. 

On such a subject as the Power of the Pen, one 
might speak endless discourses, and write endless 
volumes, for it is practically inexhaustible. It is a 
power for good and evil — as I have said— but the 
author wrongs his vocation if he does not always, 
most steadfastly and honestly, use It for Good. 
The Power of the Pen should define Right from 
Wrong with absolute certainty, — it should not so 
mix the two together that the reader cannot tell 
one from the other. In what is called the " prob- 
lem " novel or the " problem " play, the authors 
of such manage so to befuddle the brains of their 
readers, that they hardly know whether virtue is 



THE POWER OF THE PEN 341 

vice or vice virtue. This Is putting the power of 
the pen to unfair and harmful uses. And when a 
writer — any writer — employs his or her power to 
promote the spirit of Atheism and Materialism, 
the pen is turned into a merely murderous tool of 
utmost iniquity. And whosoever uses it in this 
sense will have to answer at a Higher Tribunal 
for such mischief and cruelty wrought in the 
world. 

Many people are familiar with Shakespeare's 
town, Stratford-on-Avon, quaint and peaceful and 
beautiful in itself, and in all its surroundings. 
Outside it, many roads lead to many lovely 
glimpses of landscape; but there is one road in 
particular which winds uphill, and from which, at 
certain times, the town itself is lost sight of, and 
only the tapering spire of 'Holy Trinity Church — 
Shakespeare's Church— can be seen. Frequently 
at sunset, when the rosy hue of the low clouds min- 
gles with the silvery mist of the river Avon, all the 
houses, bridges and streets are veiled In an opaque 
glow of colour— and look like "mirage," or a 
picture in a dream. And then, the spire of Shake- 
speare's Church, seen by Itself, rising clear ^ up 
from the surrounding haze, puts on the distinct 
appearance of a Pen, — pointing upwards as though 
prepared to write upon the sky I 

Often and often have I seen it so, and others 
have seen it with me, glittering against clouds, or 
lit up by a flashing sunbeam. I have always 
thought it a true symbol of what the Power of the 



342 FREE OPINIONS 

Pen should be — to point upwards. To point to 
the highest aims of life, the best, the greatest 
things; to rise clear out of the darkness and point 
straight to the sunshine! For, if so uplifted, the 
Power of the Pen becomes truly Invincible. It 
can do almost anything. It can shame the knave 
— it can abash the fool. It can lower the proud, — 
it can raise the humble. It can assist the march of 
Science, — it can crush opposition. Armed with 
truth and justice, its authority is greater than 
that of governments, — for it can upset govern- 
ments. 

It would seem Impossible to dethrone an un- 
worthy king; but It has been done — by the Power 
of the Pen! It Is difficult to put down the arro- 
gance of a county snob, — but it can be done ! — by 
the Power of the Pen ! It may seem a terrible task 
to root up lies, to destroy hypocrisies, shams, false 
things of every kind, and make havoc among 
rogues, sensualists, and scoundrels of both high 
and low degree, — but It can be done, by the Power 
of the Pen ! And to those who are given this power 
in Its truest sense, is also added the gift of prophecy 
— the quick prescience of things To Be — the spir- 
itual hearing which catches the first sound of the 
approaching time. And beyond the things of time 
this spiritual sense projects Itself, and hears, and 
almost sees, what shall be found most glorious 
after death ! 

With the Power of the Pen we can uphold all 
noble things; we can denounce all vile things. 



THE POWER OF THE PEN 343 

May all who have that power so deal with it — and 
point us on — ^nd upward I For as our great poet, 
Tennyson, says: — 

What is true at last will tell; 

Few at first will place thee well; 
Some too low would have thee shine, 
Some too high — no fault of thine! 

Hold thine own and work thy will! 



THE GLORY OF WORK 

VERY commonplace and familiar — per- 
haps too commonplace and familiar is the 
subject of Work. Every one worthy the 
name of man or woman is or desires to be a 
Worker, and none surely would voluntarily swell 
the distressed ranks of the Unemployed. For to 
be unemployed is to be miserable. To find noth- 
ing to do, — to be of no use to ourselves or to our 
fellow-creatures is to be more or less set aside and 
cast out from the ever-working Divine scheme of 
labour and fruition, — ambition and accomplish- 
ment. Among all the blessings which the Creator 
showers so liberally upon us, there is none greater 
than Work. And amid all the evils which Man 
wilfully accumulates on his own head through ig- 
norance and obstinacy, there is none so blighting 
and disastrous as Idleness. 

There are, however, certain people who have 
persuaded themselves to look upon Work as a 
curse. Many of these pin their theories on the 
Third Chapter of the Book of Genesis. There 
they read: 

" Cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow 
shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life. 

" In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread 
till thou return unto the ground." 

344 



THE GLORY OF WORK 345 

But we may take comfort in the fact that the 
Book of Genesis shows some curious discrepancies. 
For in the Second Chapter God is represented as 
making one single man out of the dust of the 
ground, and in the very First Chapter of the same 
Book we read that, — 

"God created man in His own image; male 
and female created he them, 

"And God blessed them and said unto 
them ... Be fruitful and multiply, and replen- 
ish the earth and subdue it: and have dominion 
over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the 
air, and over every living thing that moveth upon 
the earth." 

Thus we find that the story of Adam and Eve 
and the Serpent does not Qccur till after the crea- 
tion of mankind (in the plural) and after the 
Divine order that this same mankind (in the 
plural) should " replenish the earth and subdue 
it." No " curse " accompanied this command. 
On the contrary, it was sanctified by a blessing. 
" God blessed them." And whether Genesis be 
taken seriously, or only read as poetic legend 
founded on some substratum of actual events, the 
fact remains that " to replenish the earth and sub- 
due It," literally means,— to Work. The " do- 
minion " of man over the planet he inhabits is not 
to be gained by sitting down with folded hands 
and waiting for food to drop into the mouth. It 
is evident that he was intended to earn his right 
to live. It is also evident that the blessing of God 



346 FREE OPINIONS 

will be his, if from the first beginnings of conscious 
intelligence and aptitude he resolutely and hon- 
estly sets his shoulder to the wheel. 

It is only when we are at work that we are 
vitally and essentially a part of God's great 
creative scheme. Idleness is an abnormal condi- 
tion. It is not to be found in nature. There 
everything works, and in the special task allotted 
to It, each conscious atom finds its life and joy. 
The smallest seed works, as it slowly but surely 
pushes its way up through the soil; — the bird 
works, as it builds its nest and forages the earth 
and air to find food for its young. We cannot 
point to the minutest portion of God's magnifi- 
cent creation and say that it is idle. Nothing Is 
absolutely at rest. There is — strictly speaking — 
no rest in the whole Universe. All things are 
working; all things are moving. Man clamours 
for rest, — ^but rest is what he will never get, — not 
even In the grave. For though he may seem 
dead, new forms of life germinate from his body, 
and go on working in their appointed way, — 
while, with the immortal part of himself which is 
his Soul, he enters at once into fresh fields of 
labour. Rest Is no more possible than death in the 
Divine scheme of everlasting progress where all 
is Life. 

Nature is our mother, from whose gentle or 
severe lessons we must learn the problems of our 
own lives. And whenever we go to her for help 
or for instruction, we always find her working. 



THE GLORY OF WORK 347 

She never sleeps. She never has a spare moment. 
'* Without 'haste, without rest " is her eternal 
motto. When we, like fretful children, complain 
of long hours of toil, scant wages and short holi- 
days, she silently points us to the Universe around 
us of which we are a part, and bids us set our 
minds " in tune with the Infinite." The Sun never 
takes holiday. With steady regularity it performs 
Its task. For countless ages it has worked without 
any attempt to swerve from its monotonous round 
of duty. It shines on the just and on the unjust 
alike; it gives life and joy equally to the gnat 
dancing in its beams, as to the human being who 
hails its glory and warmth as the simple expression 
of " a fine day." It gets no wages. It receives 
very little in the way of thanks. Its duty is so 
evident and is always so well done, that by the 
very perfection of its performance it has exhausted 
the far too easily exhausted sense of human grati- 
tude. Like a visible lamp of God's love for us it 
generates beauty and brightness about us where- 
ever we go, — and it invites us to look beyond the 
veil of creation to the Creator, who alone sustains 
the majestic fabric of life. 

In some ways God Himself may be resembled 
to the Sun, seeing that He receives very little of 
our gratitude. We are so wonderfully guided by 
His wisdom that we sometimes think ourselves 
wiser than He. Of our own accord we give Him 
scarcely any of our real working powers, and were 
it not that we are all, in the mass, unconsciously 



348 FREE OPINIONS 

swayed by His command, the little we do give 
would be less. Our ideas of serving Him too 
often consist in attending various sectarian places 
of worship where quarrelling is far more common 
than brotherly love and unity. In these places of 
worship we pray to Him for Ourselves and our 
own concerns. We ask Him for all we can possibly 
think of, and we seldom pause to consider that 
He has already given us more than we deserve. 
It very rarely enters Into our heads to realize that 
we are required to show Him some return — that 
we are bound to work — no matter In how small 
a degree — towards something in His vast design 
which has, or shall have. Its place in the world's 
progress. We continue to implore Him to work 
for Us, — just as if He needed our urging! We 
petition Him to give us food and other material 
comforts, — ^yet if we study the laws of Nature 
we shall learn that we are Intended to Work for 
our food and for all the things we want. We 
must Work for them In common with the rest of 
all our fellows in the animal, bird and Insect king- 
doms. What a man does, that he has. We have 
no need to ask God for what He has already given 
us. He has provided all that is neccessary for our 
health and sustenance on the earth, — but we must 
earn It, — deserve It, — and take a little intelligent 
trouble to understand the value of It, as well as 
to learn the laws by which we may gain and hold 
our own In life. We must, in fact. Work. All 
Creation visibly shows us that God Himself has 



THE GLORY OF WORK 349 

worked and is still working. He, who has made 
us in " His own Image " must have from each one 
of us a strong and faithful effort to follow His 
Divine pre-ordained order of Labour and Prog- 
ress. It may be asked — To what does the 
Labour and Progress tend? The answer of our 
last great Poet Laureate, Tennyson, Is the best — 
the 

" One far off divine event 
To which the whole creation moves." 

Whether it be work with the hands or work with 
the brain. It Is work of some kind that we must 
do If we would prove ourselves worthy to be a 
part of the ever-working Universe. And If by 
disinclination, — or by lethargy of mind and spirit, 
we decline to share in the splendid " onward and 
upward " march of toil, the time comes when 
great Mother Nature will accept us exactly at our 
own valuation. If we choose to be no more than 
clods of clay, then as clods of clay she will use us, 
to make soil for braver feet than our own. If 
on the contrary, we strive to be active Intelligences, 
she will equally use us for nobler purposes. The 
formation of our condition rests absolutely with 
ourselves. No one person can shape the life of 
another. The father cannot ensure the fortunes 
of his son. The mother cannot guarantee the 
happiness of her daughter. Both mother and father 
may do their best on these lines, but sooner or 
later the son and daughter will take their own 
way and make their own lives. Each Individual 



350 FREE OPINIONS 

man or woman must work out his or her own sal- 
vation. For this is the Law, — and it is a Law 
divine and eternal against which there is no appeal. 

Let us realize, therefore, the Divine Necessity 
of Work, — and having realized it let us take an 
honest joy in being able to do any sort of work 
ourselves, no matter how humble or monotonous 
such work may be. There is nothing really com- 
mon even in what is called " common '* work. 
There is nothing undignified in the roughest 
labour. It is only the '' loafer '* who loses both 
self-respect and dignity. The peasant who turns 
the soil with his spade all day long is a noble and 
primeval figure in the landscape, and deserves our 
consideration and respect. The countless thou- 
sands of men, working in huge factories, patiently 
guiding the machinery of giant looms, sweltering 
their very lives out in the fiery heat of huge fur- 
naces where iron and steel are shaped for the uses 
of the world — these are the actual body of man- 
kind — the nerves, the muscles, the sinews of 
humanity. They represent the nobility, the worth, 
the movement of the age. They are the Working 
People. And the Working People of this, or of 
any other nation are the People indeed — the Peo- 
ple whose word — if they will only utter it — must 
inevitably become Law. 

Sometimes, however, when we work, — ^when we 
perform some special round of duty more or less 
monotonous, we are unlike the rest of the working 
Universe. The Universe works without any 



THE GLORY OF WORK 35 1 

grumbling at its work-but we-well!-we rather 
like to grumble. We want every one to know how 
hard our work is, and how badly paid we are. 
Many of us, who are men, would like to pass 
entire days, loafing about, our hands in our 
pockets, our pipes in our mouths, serving no pur- 
pose whatever in the world save that of replenish- 
ing the till of the nearest public-house. Others 
of us who are women, would love to dress up for 
all we are worth and meander through the streets, 
staring into shop-windows and coveting goods we 
have no money to buy. We forget that while we 
are wasting time in this fashion, we are consuming 
some of the very energy that should be at work 
to obtain for us whatever we desire. And we are 
also apt to forget that very often those who pos- 
sess what we envy,-who hold all that we would 
win — have worked for it. 

It is of course quite true that some workers are 
well rewarded while others get little if any reward 
at all But to understand the cause of this inequa - 
ity we must examine the character of the work 
implied, and the spirit in which that work is done 
Is it undertaken with cheerfulness and zeal? 
Or is it merely accepted as a "grind to be 
shirked whenever possible and only half accom- 
plished? I venture to think that the man who 
loves his work,-who is content to begin at the 
lowest rung of the ladder in order to niaster all 
the minutest details of his particular trade or pro- 
fession— whose Work is dearer to him than either 



352 FREE OPINIONS 

his wages or his dinner — is bound to be rewarded, 
bound to succeed In whatever calling of life he 
may be. It Is the half-hearted worker who fails. 
It Is the " scamp " worker who sticks In the rut. 
Every man should do his utmost best. When he 
does only his half or quarter best, he wrongs his 
own capability and Intelligence even more than he 
wrongs his employer. To " scamp " even the 
simplest kind of work proves him to be out of 
tune with Nature. For in the natural world we 
find no " scamping." Each tiny leaf, each humble 
insect Is as perfect In Its way as the planet Itself. 
A midge's wing seen through the microscope Is 
as brilliant and beautiful as that of a butterfly. 
And so, — " looking up through Nature unto Na- 
ture's God " we hear everywhere the Divine com- 
mand — " Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do 
It with thy Might." 

I hardly think the love of Work, for Work's 
own sake, Is a leading characteristic of the 
workers of the present day. There is a tendency 
to " rush " everything, — to get It done and over. 
It Is a rare thing to meet a man who is so fond of 
his work that he can hardly be persuaded to leave 
It. Yet In him Is the real germ of success, and with 
him are the true possibilities of power. For the 
conscientious and painstaking worker more often 
than not may become the great discoverer. In the 
very earnestness with which he bends over his 
daily toil which may often seem the merest monot- 
onous drudgery, it frequently chances that a little 



THE GLORY OF WORK 353 

hint, — an unexpected clue, — Is given out from the 
great factory of nature, which may revolutionize 
a whole handicraft, or quicken a failing Industry. 
Nothing of value In science or art Is ever vouch- 
safed to the mere " hustler.'* And there Is by far 
too much ** hustling," nowadays. I am an ardent 
lover of steady toil and continuous progress, pro- 
vided the progress is accompanied by the growth 
of beauty, goodness and happiness, but I am no 
advocate of '' rush " or " speed." Nothing Is 
well done that Is done In a hurry. Every scrap 
of time should be used as a precious gift, — not 
snatched up and devoured. For with haste comes 
carelessness and what Is called " slop work." " As 
long as it's done never mind how it's done," Is a 
kind of humour that Is common enough and easily 
fostered. Haste by no means implies real swift- 
ness or attention to details. We need not draw 
comparisons between the foreign workman and his 
British brother, because there Is a maxim which 
says " Comparisons are odious." But in justice 
to the foreign workman, it must be said that he 
often shows great intelligence and artistic ability. 
Moreover that he sometimes works twelve hours 
a day against the British eight, at half the British 
workman's wages. 

But my own love for everything British is so 
deep and hearty that I should like to see British 
handicraft, British art, British work of all kinds 
at the head of creation. And I do most distinctly 
think it the duty of every British employer of 



354 FREE OPINIONS 

labour to provide work for British workers first. 
Let the men who live in the land find means to 
live. It is surely the right of the British working- 
man to have the first chance with a British em- 
ployer. But this does not always happen. It is 
a " consummation devoutly to be wished," but 
it is not to be at once realized even by schemes 
of fiscal policy. It is only to be attained by the 
British working people themselves, — by the qual- 
ity of the work they do and the spirit in which they 
do it. We talk a great deal about Education, 
technical and otherwise. What are the results? 
The fact seems to be that when there was no 
compulsory Education much better work was 
done. Houses were better built, — furniture was 
more strongly made. Compare the brick-and-a- 
half " modern villa " architecture, with Its lath 
and plaster doors and window-frames, with the 
warm thick walls and stout oak timbers of a farm 
or manor-house of the sixteenth century I Put 
side by side the flimsy modern chair, and the 
serviceable oak one, hand made in the time of our 
forefathers! Connoisseurs and collectors of bric- 
a-brac are supposed to have a craze for *' old " 
things, merely because they are ** old." This is 
not altogether true. Old things are appreciated 
because they are good, — because they show evi- 
dences of painstaking and careful Work. An old 
oak staircase in a house is valued as a treasure, not 
only for its age, but for its artistic construction, 
which our best workers can only imitate and never 



THE GLORY OF WORK 355 

surpass. It must, I think, be conceded that our 
forefathers had better conceptions of the fitting 
and the beautiful in some ways of work than we 
have. We have only to compare the Cathedrals 
which they built for the worship of God, with our 
uninspired ugly modern Churches and chapels. 
We know that they appreciated the beauties of the 
landscape, and that they loved the grand old 
English trees, which our short-sighted County 
Councils are destroying every year. Nothing can 
be more pitiful to see than the ruthless and stupid 
cutting down of noble trees all over the country, 
under the rule that their branches shall not hang 
over the road. Thus, every grateful place of 
shade Is ruined, as well as much natural beauty. 
Our ancestors, more individually free, showed 
finer taste. The roofs of their houses were pic- 
turesquely thatched or tiled, and gabled, — their 
eyes were never affronted by the dull appearance 
of cheap slate and corrugated iron. They left us 
a heritage of many lovely and lasting things; but 
it is greatly to be feared that we shall not do like- 
wise to those that come after us. We are destroy- 
ing far more than we are creating. 

And when we come to the higher phases of Intel- 
lectual work, we find that though we have plenty 
of " schools of art " we have no great British 
artists such as Gainsborough, Reynolds or Rom- 
ney. And though every one Is supposed to know 
how to read and write, we have no great literature 
such as that of Shakespeare, Scott, Thackeray or 



356 FREE OPINIONS 

Dickens. These belonged to the days of non-com- 
pulsory Education. Poetry, too, the divlnest of 
the arts. Is well-nigh dead. The great poets were 
born In so-called " uneducated " times. Our 
present system of Education Is absolutely disas- 
trous in one respect, — that of Its tendency to de- 
press and cramp rather than to encourage the 
aspiring student. Its mechanical routine works on 
the line of flattening all human creatures down to 
one level. Originality Is often " quashed." Yet 
in all educational schemes there should be plenty 
of room left for the natural ability of the student 
or worker to expand and declare Itself in some 
entirely new form wherever possible. 

But despite our perpetual talk of the advantages 
of Education, here we are to-day with plenty of 
schools both before and behind us, but no very 
great men. And looking a long way back In his- 
tory we see that when there was no Compulsory 
Education at all, there were very great men, — 
men who made the glory of England. Shall we 
leave anything after us, to match their heritage? 
It is open to doubt. Much of our modern work 
is " scamped " and badly done. And a great deal 
of the mischief arises from our way of " rushing " 
things. We are so anxious to catch Time by the 
forelock that we almost tear that forelock off! 
But why such haste? What Is our object? Well, 
— we want to make money before we die. We 
want to make It, and then spend It on ourselves, 
or else leave it to our children who will no doubt 



THE GLORY OF WORK 357 

get rid of It all for us with the most cheerful 
rapidity. Or we want to have enough to " sit 
down and do nothing." This is some people's 
Idea of perfect bliss. A servant of mine once very 
kindly reproached me for sticking at my desk so 
long. " If I were a lady," said she — " I would 
sit down and do nothing." No more cruel torture 
can be Imagined than this. We read In history 
of prisoners who, condemned to such a life, went 
mad with the misery of It. The only way to live 
happily and healthfully is to try with every mo- 
ment of our time to accomplish something — even 
If It be only a thought. Thought, as we know, 
crystallizes into action. Yet very few people 
really think. Many get no further than to think 
they are thinking. To think Is a kind of Work — 
too hard for many folks. In politics, for Instance, 
some people let the Press think for them. They 
cannot be bothered to do It for themselves. And 
when the Press makes what is called a " corner " 
In any particular policy, they sometimes submit to 
be " cornered." There have been of late a great 
many rumours concerning a gigantic Press " com- 
bine " which Is to be formed for the purpose of 
swaying the opinion of the British public and par- 
ticularly the opinion of the British worklngman. 
In other words, opinion Is no longer to be " free," 
but coerced by something like a Press " Trust " 
Company. Now if we are to believe this, we must 
likewise believe the British public fools. And 
we should surely be sorry to be forced to such a 



358 FREE OPINIONS 

conclusion. Let us hope the British public has an 
opinion of its own entirely apart from the Press, 
and that it will declare that opinion bravely and 
openly. It is hard to imagine that it will allow 
Its fondness for " prize-competitions " and " puz- 
zle-pictures " to Interfere with its common sense 
and honesty. I may say, however, that I have 
often marvelled at the generosity with which a 
large majority of people will insist on filling the 
pockets of newspaper capitalists, by purchasing 
such quantities of the particular journals which 
contain these puzzles and competitions. The 
guileless innocence of childhood In the nursery Is 
not more touching than the faith of the great 
British public in what is called a " Picture " or 
** Word " puzzle. Over this kind of thing I have 
seen otherwise sane people actually work! Once 
I made a calculation of the hours spent by a friend 
of mine In deciphering one of these newspaper 
problems, and found that he could certainly have 
obtained a very fair knowledge of French or 
Italian In the time, or he could have learned short- 
hand and typewriting. He was successful in the 
competition, and received for his pains the splen- 
did sum of three halfpence. It was explained to 
him that there were so many successful competi- 
tors that the hundred — or thousand pounds 
reward had to be divided among the crowd. 
Three halfpence therefore was his legitimate 
share. 

I am no politician. I am simply a Worker — 



THE GLORY OF WORK 359 

and I do such work as I can quite independently 
of sect or party. Yet as a Worker, and looker-on 
at the events taking place around me, I cannot help, 
feeling that this dear land of ours Is on the verge 
of a great crisis In her history. We hear much of 
falling trade, — depression In this or that quarter, 
— but apart from political agitators. It seems to 
me that Great Britain stands where she has always 
stood — at the top of the world! Whatever Influ- 
ences have set her there, surely there she Is. And 
it Is for all true workers to keep her there. It Is 
not by what parties or Governments will do for 
us that her position will be sustained and strength- 
ened, — it Is by what we, in the skill and excellence 
of our Work in all trades and professions, will do 
for Her. It is by our determination to excel in 
all kinds of Work that she will hold her own, — 
by our unstinted time, our ungrudging labour, our 
zeal, our cheerfulness, our love for her glory that 
she — and ourselves — will exist. It Is necessary 
to " protect " her, and all things that may help 
to make her stronger and greater — ^but sometimes 
the word " Protection " may be made to apply 
chiefly to capitalists and " cornerers " of trade. 
Herein comes the hard work of Thinking. We 
must Think for ourselves. God has given us 
brains to work with. There is never any good 
reason why we should hastily adopt the political 
views of certain newspaper proprietors who are 
perhaps under the impression that we have no 
brains at all, and that being thus sadly deficient, 



36o FREE OPINIONS 

we are willing to buy their brains for a penny or 
a halfpenny ! It Is by the workers of the land that 
the land lives. And more than this, — It Is from 
the workers that must come the great battle of 
Right against Might. It Is for the Workers to 
put to shame by their own faith and honour, the 
wicked Atheism and open Immorality which are 
disgracing some of our so-called " upper " 
classes to-day — and It Is for the Workers to show 
by their upright, temperate lives, and their steady 
downright Work, that they are determined to 
keep the foundations of the Home secure, and the 
heart of England warm and true. What says 
brave Thomas Carlyle? 

"All true Work Is sacred; in all true Work, 
were it but true hand-labour, there Is something 
of divlneness. Labour, wide as the Earth, has 
Its summit In Heaven. Sweat of the brow, and 
up from that to sweat of the brain, sweat of the 
heart — which Includes all Kepler calculations, 
Newton meditations, all Sciences, all spoken Epics, 
all acted Heroisms, and Martyrdoms, up to that 
* Agony of bloody sweat ' which all men have 
called divine ! O brother, if this Is not * worship,' 
then I say the more pity for worship, for this Is 
the noblest thing yet discovered under God's sky. 
Who are thou that complalnest of thy life of toil ? 
Complain not. Look up, my wearied brother! — 
see thy fellow Workmen there In God's eternity, 
surviving there, they alone surviving; sacred 
Band of the Immortals, celestial Bodyguard of 



THE GLORY OF WORK 361 

the Empire of Mankind. Even in the weak 
Human memory they survive so long, as saints, as 
heroes, as gods, they alone surviving — peopling, 
they alone, the measured solitudes of Time. To 
thee. Heaven, though severe, Is not unkind; 
Heaven Is kind as a noble Mother — as that Spar- 
tan mother, saying while she gave her son his 
shield — * With It, my son, or upon it ! ' Thou 
too shalt return home In honour, brother 
Worker! — to thy far distant Home, In honour, 
doubt it not, if in the battle thou keep thy shield ! " 



THE HAPPY LIFE 

MOST people want to be happy if they 
can. I suppose it may be safely set 
down without fear of contradiction that 
no one who is sane and healthy wilfully elects to 
be miserable. Yet the secret of happiness seems 
to be solved by very few. People try to be happy 
in all sorts of queer ways — in speculation, land- 
grabbing, dram-drinking, horse-racing, bridge- 
playing, newspaper-running, and various other 
methods which are more or less suited to their con- 
stitutional abilities — but in many cases these 
channels, carefully dug out for the reception of a 
perpetual inflowing of the stream of happiness, 
appear very soon to run dry. I have been asked 
scores of times what I consider to be the happiest 
life in the world, and I have always answered 
without the least hesitation — the Life Literary. 
In all respects it answers perfectly to the descrip- 
tion of the " Happy Life " portrayed by that 
gentle sixteenth-century poet, Sir Henry iWoo- 
ton: — 

How happy is he born and taught 
That serveth not another's will, 

Whose armour is his honest thought, 
And simple truth his utmost skill. 

Herein we have the vital essence of all delight — 
362 



THE HAPPY LIFE 363 

honest thought and simple truth— and in the 
*' serveth not another's will," glorious liberty. 
For chiefest among the joys of the Life Literary 
are its splendid independence, its right of^ free 
opinion, and its ability to express that opinion. 
An author is bound to no person, no place, and 
no party, unless he or she wilfully elects to be so 
bound. To him, or to her, all the realms of Nature 
and imagination are entrance-free— the pen un- 
locks every closed door— and not only is the pres- 
ent period of time set out like a stage-scene for 
contemplation and criticism, but all the past ages, 
with their histories, and the rise and fall of their 
civilizations, arrange themselves to command in 
a series of pictures for the pleasure of the literary 
eye and brain; and it is just as easy to converse 
in one's own library with' Plato on the immortality 
of the soul as it is good-humouredly to tolerate 
Mr. Mallock and his little drawing-room philoso- 
phies. For a book is more or less the expression 
of the mind, or a part of the mind, of its writer, 
and, inasmuch as it is only with the moral and 
intellectual personalities of our friends and ene- 
mies that we care to deal, it matters little whether 
such personalities be three or four thousand years 
old, or only of yesterday. And to live the Life 
Literary means that we can always choose our own 
company. We can reject commoners and receive 
kings, or vice versa. The author who is careful 
to hold and maintain all the real privileges and 
rights of authorship is a ruler of millions, and 



364 FREE OPINIONS 

under subjection to none. The position is unique 
and, to my thinking, unequalled. 

There are many, of course, who will by no 
means agree with me as to the superior charm of 
the Life Literary over all other lives — and such 
objectors will be found mostly In the literary pro- 
fession itself. Unsuccessful authors — particularly 
those who are in any way troubled with dyspep- 
sia — will be among them. " Tied " authors 
also — and by " tied " authors I mean the unhappy 
wretches who have signed contracts with pub- 
lishers several years ahead, and are, so to speak, 
dancing in fetters. Authors who count the num- 
ber of words they write per day, like potatoes, and 
anxiously calculate how much a publisher will pos- 
sibly give for them per bushel, are not likely to 
experience any very particular " happiness " while 
they are measuring out halfpence in this fashion. 
And authors who run after " society " and want 
to be seen here, there, and everywhere, are bound 
to lose the gifts of the gods one by one as they 
scamper helter-skelter through the world's Vanity 
Fair, while they may be perfectly sure that the 
** great " or swagger persons with whom they 
seek to associate will be the first to despise and 
neglect them in any time of need or trouble, as well 
as the last to support or help them in any urgent 
cause which might be benefited by their assistance. 

On this point we have only to remember the 
melancholy experience of Robert Burns, who, 
after having been flattered and feasted by certain 



THE HAPPY LIFE 365 

individuals who were, in an ephemeral sense, influ- 
ential for the time being, either through their 
rank or their wealth, was afterwards shamefully 
neglected, and finally, notwithstanding the various 
social attentions and courtesy he had at one time 
received, he was left, when ill and dying, in such 
extremity as to be compelled to implore his pub- 
lisher for the loan of five pounds! What had 
become of all his wealthy and " influential " 
friends? Why they were exactly where all " influ- 
ential" persons would be now in a similar case — 
*' otherwise engaged " when their help is needed. 
Nothing can well be more deplorable than the 
position of any author who depends for success 
on a clique of " distinguished " or " society '* 
persons. He or she has exchanged independence 
for slavery — the nectar of the gods for a base 
mess of pottage — and the true " happiness " of 
the Life Literary for a mere miserable restless- 
ness and constant craving after fresh excitement, 
which gradually breeds nervous troubles, and dis- 
turbs that fine and even balance of brain without 
which no clear or convincing thought is possible. 
Again, authors who deliberately prostitute their 
talents to the writing of lewd matter unfit to be 
handled by cleanly-minded men and women need 
never hope to possess that happy and studious 
peace which comes from the 

Pure intent to do the best 
Purely — and leave to God the rest. 

For the highest satisfaction in the Life Literary 



366 FREE OPINIONS 

IS to think that perhaps, in a fortunate or Inspired 
moment, one may have written at least a sentence, 
a line, a verse that may carry comfort and a sense 
of beauty to the sorrowful or hope to the forlorn ; 
while surely the greatest pang would be to know 
that one had cast the already despairing soul into 
a lower depth of degradation, or cause the sinner 
to revel more consciously In his sin. 

But are there no drawbacks, no disappoint- 
ments, no sufferings in the Life Literary? Why, 
of course there are I Who would be such a useless 
block of stone, such a senseless lump of unvalued 
clay, as not to ardently wish for drawbacks, dis- 
appointments, and sufferings? Who that has a 
soul at all does not pray that it may be laid like 
glowing iron on the anvil of endurance, there to 
be beaten and hammered by destiny till it is of a 
strong and shapely mould, fit for combat, nerved 
to victory? And I maintain that such drawbacks, 
disappointments, difficulties, and sufferings as the 
profession of Literature entails are sweeter and 
nobler than the cares besetting other professions, 
inasmuch as they are always accompanied by 
never-failing consolations. If the pinch be poverty, 
the true servant of Literature can do with less of 
this world's goods than most people. Luxury is 
not called for when one is rich in idealism and 
fancy. Heavy feeding will not make a clear, quick 
brain. Extravagant apparel is a necessity for no 
one — and genius was never yet born of a mil- 
lionaire. 



THE HAPPY LIFE 367 

If the " thorn In the flesh " is the petty abuse 
of one's envious contemporaries, that Is surely a 
matter for rejoicing rather than grief, as it is 
merely the continuance of an apparently " natural 
law in the spiritual world " acting from the In- 
ferior upon the Superior, which may be worded 
thus: "Whosoever will be great, let him be 
flayed alive! " Virgil was declared by Pliny to be 
destitute of invention; Aristotle was styled " igno- 
rant, vain, and ambitious " by both Cicero and 
Plutarch; Plato was so jealous of Democritus that 
he proposed to burn up all his works; Sophocles 
was brought to trial by his own children as a 
lunatic; Horace was accused of stealing from all 
the minor Greek poets ; and so on in the same way 
down to our own times. 

Pope went so far as to make a collection of all 
the libels passed upon him, and had them pre- 
served and bound with singular care, though I 
believe no one knows where to find these scandal- 
ous splutterlngs of Grub Street. Swift is reported 
to have said to the irate author of the " Dunciad " : 
*' Give me a shilling and I will ensure you that 
posterity shall never know one single enemy 
against you excepting those whose memory you 
yourself have preserved." Herein is a profound 
truth. The malicious enemies of a great author 
only become known to the public through the mis- 
taken condescension of the great author's notice. 

Milton's life was embittered by the contempt- 
ible spite of one Salmasius. iWho was Salmasius? 



36S FREE OPINIONS 

we ask nowadays. We do not ask who was 
Milton. Salmaslus was the author of the " De- 
fensio Regi " or Defence of Kings, a poor piece 
of work long ago forgotten, and he was the pro- 
curer of foul libel against the author of " Paradise 
Lost," one of England's greatest and noblest 
men. What small claim he has to the world's 
memory arises merely from his viciousness, for 
not only did he make use of the lowest tools to aid 
him in conspiring against Milton's reputation, but 
he spread the grossest lies broadcast, even accusing 
the poet of having a hideous personal appear- 
ance — "a puny piece of man; a homunculus; a 
dwarf deprived of the human figure; a contempt- 
ible pedagogue." When the despicable slanderer 
learned the fact that Milton, so far from answer- 
ing to this description, was of a pleasing and 
attractive appearance, he immediately changed his 
tactics and began to attack his moral character — 
which, as even Milton's bitterest political enemies 
knew, was austerely above the very shadow of sus- 
picion. It was said that the poet's over-zealous- 
ness in answering the calumnies of Salmasius cost 
him his eye-sight, which, if true, was surely re- 
grettable. Salmasius died dishonoured and dis- 
graced, as such a cowardly brute deserved to die; 
Milton still holds his glorious place in England's 
literary history. So it was, so it is, so it ever 
will be. 

Greatness is always envied — it is only medioc- 
rity that can boast of a host of friends, ** When 



THE HAPPY LIFE 369 

you have resolved to be great," says Emerson, 
" abide by -yourself, and do not weakly try to 
reconcile yourself with the world." It is impos- 
sible to quote one single instance of a truly great 
m'an existing without his calumniators. And the 
Life Literary without any enemies would be a 
shabby go-cart; or, as our American cousins put 
it, a " one-horse concern." Some lines that were 
taught to me when I was a child seem apposite 
to this subject, and I quote them here for the 
benefit of any struggling units of the Life Literary 
who may haply be in need : — 

You have no enemies, you say? 

Alas ! my friend, the boast is poor — 
He who has mingled in the fray 

Of duty, that the brave endure, 
Must have made foes! If you have none, 
Small is the work that you have done; 
You've hit no traitor on the hip, 
You've dashed no cup from perjured lip, 
You've never turned the wrong to right— 
You've been a coward in the fight 1 ^ 

But it is perhaps time that I should drop the 
masculine personal pronoun for the feminine, and, 
being a woman, treat of the Life Literary from 
the woman's point of view. In olden days the 
profession of literature was looked upon as a ter- 
rible thing for a woman to engage in, and the 
observations of some very kindly and chivalrous 
writers on this subject are not without pathos. 
To quote one example only, can anything be more 
rCharlei Mackay, LL.D, 



370 FREE OPINIONS 

quaintly droll at this time of day than the follow- 
ing: — 

" Of all the sorrows in which the female char- 
acter may participate there are few more affecting 
than those of an Authoress — often insulated and 
improtected in society — ^with all the sensibility of 
the sex, encountering miseries which break the 
spirits of men! " 

This delicate expression of sympathy for a 
woman's literary struggles was written by the 
elder Disraeli as late as 1840. Truly we have 
raced along the rails of progress since then at ex- 
press speed — and the " affecting " sorrows of an 
" Authoress " (with a capital A) now affect 
nobody except in so far as they make " copy " for 
the callow journalist to hang a string of cheap 
sneers upon. The Authoress must take part with 
the Author in the general rough-and-tumble of 
life — and she cannot too quickly learn the truth 
that when once she enters the literary arena, where 
men are already fistcufiing and elbowing each other 
remorselessly, she will be met chiefly with " kicks 
and no ha'pence." She must fight like the rest, un- 
less she prefers to lie down and be walked over. If 
she elects to try for a first place, it will take her all 
her time to win it, and, when won, to hold it ; and, 
in the event of her securing success, she must not 
expect any chivalrous consideration from the 
opposite sex, or any special kindness and sym- 
pathy from her own. For the men will consider 
her " out of her sphere " if she writes books 



THE HAPPY LIFE 371 

instead of producing babies, and the women will, 
in nine case, out of ten, begrudge her the freedom 
and independence she enjoys, particularly If such 
freedom and Independence be allied to fortune 
and fame. This all goes without saying. It has 
to be understood and accepted uncomplainingly. 
The " old-fashioned '* grace of chivalry to women, 
once so proudly lauded by poets and essayists as 
the distinguishing trait of all manly men. Is not to 
be relied on in the Life Literary — for there it Is 
as dead as door-nails. Men can be found In the 
literary profession who will do anything to 
" down " a woman in the same calling, and. If 
they cannot for shame's sake do it openly, they 
will do It behind her back. " 'Tis pitiful, *tls 
wondrous pitiful " — for the men I But If the 
woman concerned has studied her art to any pur- 
pose she will accept calumny as a compliment, 
slander as a votive wreath, and " envy, hatred, and 
all uncharitableness " (from which, with pious 
hypocrisy, the most envious and uncharitable per- 
sons pray " Good Lord deliver us " every Sunday) 
as so many tokens and proofs of her admitted 
power. And none of these things need disturb the 
equanimity of the Life Literary. " Can any man 
cast me out of the Universe? He cannot; but 
whithersoever I may go there will be the sun and 
the moon, and the stars and visions, and com- 
munion with the gods ! " ^ 

Speaking as a woman, I can quite understand 
iand appreciate all the little difficulties^ irritations, 

* Epictetus. 



%J2 FREE OPINIONS 

and trials incident to a woman's career in litera- 
ture ; and though I myself welcome such difficulties 
as so many incentives to fresh effort, I know that 
there are many of my sex who, growing weary 
and discouraged, are not able to adopt this atti- 
tude. And looking back into the past, one is 
bound to see a host of brilliant women done to 
death by cruel injustice and misrepresentation, a 
state of things which is quite likely to be continued 
as long as humanity endures. 

But no useful object Is served by brooding over 
this apparently Incurable evil. " The noble army 
of martyrs " who praise the Lord in the " Te 
Deum " are likely to be of the sex feminine. But 
what does that matter? It is more glorious to be 
martyred than to die of over-eating and general 
plethora. Moreover mental or Intellectual mar- 
tyrdom is a necessary ingredient for the " happy " 
life — a touch of it is like the toothache, helping 
one to be duly thankful when the pain ceases. For, 
if we never understood trouble, we should never 
taste the full measure of joy. 

One thing can be very well dispensed with by 
both men and women who look for happiness in 
the Life Literary, and that Is the uneasy hankering 
after what is called " Fame.'' Fame has a habit 
of settling its halo on the elected brows without 
any outside advice or assistance. Those authors 
who are destined for It will assuredly win It, 
though all the world should intervene; those for 
whom it is not intended must content themselves 



THE HAPPY LIFE 373 

with the temporary notoriety of pretty newspaper 
puffs and "stock" compliments, such as *' the 
renowned " or " well-known " or " admired " 
author or authoress, and be glad and grateful for 
these meaningless terms, inasmuch as the higher 
Fame itself at its utmost is only a brief and very 
often inaccurate '' line in history." 

The rewards and emoluments of the happy life, 
such as I have always found the Life Literary 
to be, are manifold and frequently incongruous. 
They may be considered in two sections — the out- 
ward or apparent and the interior or invisible. 
Concerning these I can only, of course, speak from 
my own experience. The outward or apparent 
occur (so far as I myself am concerned) as fol- 
lows : — 

I. Certain payments, small or large, made by 
publishers who undertake to present one's brain 
work to the world in print, and who do the best 
they can for their authors, as well as for them- 
selves. 

2 Public appreciation and condemnation, about 
equally divided. 

3. Critical praise and censure, six of one and 
half-a-dozen of the other. 

4. Endless requests for autographs. 

5. Innumerable begging letters. 

6. Imperative, sometimes threatening, demands 
for " interviews." 

7. Hundreds of love-letters. 

8. Continual offers of marriage. 



374 FREE OPINIONS 

9. Shoals of MSS. sent by literary aspirants 
to be " placed '' or '' recommended." 

10. Free circulation of lies, caricatures, and 
slanders concerning oneself, one's personality, 
friends, ways of work, and general surroundings. 

11. The grudging and bitter animosity of rival 
contemporaries. 

12. Persistent public and private misrepresen- 
tation of one's character, aims, and Intentions. 

But all these things taken together weigh very 
little when compared with the other side of the 
medal — the interior and invisible delight and 
charm of the Life Literary — the unpurchasable 
and never-failing happiness which no external 
advantage can give, no inimical influence take 
away. It is well-nigh impossible to enumerate 
the pleasures that attend the lover and servant 
of literature; they are multitudinous, and, like 
all things spiritual, outweigh all things temporal. 
Here are just a few among the kindly and constant 
favours of the gods : — 

1. The power and affluence of creative thought. 

2. A perpetual sense of intimate participation 
in the wonders of Nature and Art. 

3. A keen perception of the beautiful. 

4. Intense delight In the genius of all great men 
and women. 

5. A cheerful and contented spirit. 

6. Constant variety of occupation. 

7. Joy in simple things. 

8. The love of friends that are tried and true. 



THE HAPPY LIFE 375 

9. The never-wearying Interest of working to 
try and give -pleasure to one's reading public. 

10. The gifts and glories of Imagination. 

11. Tranquillity of mind. 

12. Firm faith in noble ideals. 

And, to quote from Walt Whitman what the 
inward sense of the " happiness " of the Life 
Literary really is, the disciple of Literary may 

say : — 

" I will show that there is no imperfection in 
the present and can be none in the future. And 
I will show that, whatever happens to anybody, 
it may be turned to beautiful results." 

Were all the lives in the world offered to me 
for my choice, from the estate of queens to that 
of commoners, I would choose the Life Literary 
in preference to any other, as ensuring the greatest 
happiness. It is full of the most lasting pleasure. 
It offers the most varied entertainment, all the arts 
and sciences group themselves naturally around 
It as with it and of It— for the literary student Is, 
or should be, as devout a lover of music as of 
poetry, as ardent an admirer of painting and sculp- 
ture as of history and philosophy— that is. If com- 
plete enjoyment of the literary gift Is to be 
possessed completely. 

I take it, of course, for granted, in this matter 
of the " happy " life, that the individual con- 
cerned, whether male or female, is neither dys- 
peptic nor bilious, nor afflicted with the incurable 
^nnui of utter selfishness, nor addicted to dram or 



376 FREE OPINIONS 

drug drinking. Because under unnatural condi- 
tions the mind Itself becomes unnatural, and the 
Life Literary Is no more productive of happiness 
than any other life that is self-poisoned at Its 
source. But, given a sane mind in a sound body, 
a clear brain, a quick perception, a keen imagina- 
tion, a warm heart, and a never-to-be-parted-wlth 
Ideal of humanity at Its best, noblest and purest, 
then the Life Literary, with all the advantages It 
bestows, the continuous education it fosters, the 
refinement of taste it engenders, the love and sym- 
pathy of unknown thousands of one's fellow 
creatures which It brings, Is the sweetest, most 
satisfying, most healthful and happy life In the 
world. Moreover It Is a life of power and respon- 
sibility — a life that forms character and tests 
courage. We soon learn to know the force of a 
Thinker In our midst, whether man or woman. 
We soon realize who It Is that sends the lightning 
of truth across our murky sky, when we see a sud- 
den swarm of cowards scurrying away from the 
storm and trying to shelter themselves under a 
haystack of lies ; and we invariably respect whoso- 
ever has the valour of his or her opinions and the 
strength to enunciate them boldly and convincingly 
with a supreme indifference to conventional con- 
veniences. For " To know the truth," says an 
Arabian sage, "Is a great thing for thyself; but 
to tell the truth to others is a greater thing for the 
world 1" 



THE SOUL OF THE NATION ^ 

AT the present time, and during the present 
/-\ time's singularly loose notions of manners, 
-*- -^morals, and dignity of behaviour, it was 
perhaps to be expected that some one or other of 
the dally newspapers would. In sagacious appre- 
ciation of free " copy," start a public discussion on 
the religious faith of this Christian Empire. It 
was perhaps as equally probable that considering 
the remarkable laxity of certain bishops and 
ordained ministers of the gospel generally, a 
" press " question should be put to the House of 
Tom, Dick and Harry— " Do We Believe?" 
Granting the premises. It was hardly to be won- 
dered at that Tom, Dick and Harry should 
straightway arise In their strength and reply to 
the question, — and not only Tom, Dick and Harry 
of the laity, but Tom, Dick and Harry of the 
clergy likewise. Great was the discussion, — fast 
and furious waged the war of words, and the 
Penny Dally which provoked the combat was thus 
conveniently supplied with material for which the 
proprietors, — most of them Sons of Israel, — had 
nothing to pay. And now, the arguments being 
heard and ended, nobody Is a whit the wiser, 
though some few may be several whits the sadder. 

377 



37B FREE OPINIONS 

For to speak honestly, nothing more reprehensible 
has ever smirched the career of an English journal 
than the fact that It should have lent Itself to the 
advertised questioning of the nation's religious 
faith. It was an open flaunting of Infidelity In the 
face of the civilized world. To talk of the " con- 
version *' of India, China or Japan, while a lead- 
ing British newspaper openly invites the notoriety- 
hunting section of the British public to air their 
opinions of the Christian Faith in its columns, 
just as if the Faith itself were on public trial in a 
Christian country, Is only one example of the many 
forms of utter Humbug in which we are nowadays 
so unfortunately prone to Indulge. Our sometimes- 
called " heathen " ally, Japan, has lately taught us 
many lessons which perhaps we knew once and 
have forgotten, and which perhaps we need to 
learn again, — such as valour without conceit, 
strength without roughness, and endurance with- 
out complaint, — ^but one of the greatest lessons 
of all she has given us Is that of her people's pious 
reverence for the Unseen and Eternal, and their 
belief In the ever-present *' Spirits of the Dead " 
whom they honour and will not shame. What a 
deplorable contrast we make in our pandering to 
the lowest tastes of the mob when, without a word 
of protest, we permit our " Spirits of the Dead," — 
the spirits of our gallant forefathers who fought 
for the pure Faith of England and sealed It with 
their blood, — to be degraded and insulted by a 
cheap newspaper discussion on the most private 



THE SOUL OF THE NATION 379 

and sacred emotions of the soul, as though such a 
discussion were of a character suited to take its 
place among police-cases and quack medical adver- 
tisements ! True, we are constantly being made 
aware that the British Press is no longer the clean, 
sane, strong and reliable institution it once was, 
when " personalities " were deemed vulgar, and 
lies dishonourable, — and therefore we perhaps 
ought not to feel very greatly surprised when the 
name and possible attributes of the Almighty 
Creator Himself are dragged through the purlieus 
of " up-to-date " journalism, — but surely there is 
something very deplorable and disgraceful in the 
fact that any one professing to be a follower of the 
Christian Faith should have replied to what can 
only be termed, considering the quarter from 
whence it came, an ironical demand, " Do We 
Believe?" The best and wisest answer would 
have been complete silence on the part of the pub- 
lic. No more effectual " snubbing " to the non- 
Christian faction could have been given. But 
unfortunately there are a certain class of persons 
whose prime passion is to see themselves in print, 
and to this end they will commit any folly and 
write any letter to the newspapers, even if it be 
only to state that primroses were seen somewhat 
early in bloom in their back yards. And such, 
chiefly, were the kind of men and women who 
poured themselves into the channels of the '' Do 
We Believe? " discussion, like water running down 
the streets into gutters and mains, — never seeming 



38o FREE OPINIONS 

to realize that to the thinking and intellectual 
world, their foolish letters, addressed to such a 
public quarter, merely proved their utter loss of 
respect for themselves, not only as professing 
Christians and subjects of a Christian Empire, 
but as men and women. No real follower of a 
Faith — any Faith — would be so lost to every 
sense of decency as to discuss it in a daily news- 
paper. As for the clergy who took part in the 
boresome palaver, one can only marvel at them 
and ask why they did not *' veto " the whole thing 
at once? A penny paper is not the Hall of 
Pontius Pilate. As ministers of Christ they might 
have protested against a modern vulgar " mock ** 
trial of their Master. It was in their power to do 
so, and such a protest would have redounded to 
their honour. At any rate, they might themselves 
have abstained from joining in the foolish and 
unnecessary gabble. For gabble it was, and gabble 
it is. No useful cause has been served thereby 
and no advantage gained. The Sons of Israel 
have asked a question, — and some of the unwise 
among professing Christians, being caught in the 
Israelltish trap, have answered it. The manner in 
which both question was put and answer given, 
was unworthy of a country where the Christian 
Faith is the guiding light of the realm. Matters 
of religion are of course open to discussion in the 
treatise or book Intended for quiet library reading, 
or even in the better-class magazines, but to hawk 
sacred subjects of personal sentiment and national 



THE SOUL OF THE NATION 381 

creed about in the dally wear of newspaper col- 
umns which' equally include murders, divorces, 
bigamies, stocks and shares, and the general debris 
cast off as flotsam and jetsam in the turgid waves 
of Mankind's ever-recurring mischief against 
itself, was to the last degree reprehensible and 
regrettable. And this, if only for the possible 
impression likely to be created by such an action 
among the peoples of those countries to whom, 
with ridiculous inconsistency, w^ presum-e to send 
missionaries for the purpose of " converting " 
them to a Creed we ourselves drag through the 
mire of doubt in our daily press. Fortunately, 
however, the matter, deplorably as It has exhibited 
our " religion " to the eyes of " heathen " na- 
tions, has now come to an end. It has worked 
no change, — it has strengthened no weak places, — 
it has helped no struggling effort towards good. 
The Soul of the Nation has not been moved 
thereby, and it is the Soul of the Nation — that 
gre^t, silent patient and labouring Soul, with which 
all religion has to do, — that Soul, which the Chris- 
tian Creed, ever since it was first preached in 
Britain, has raised to such a height of supremacy 
and power, that it needs all its reserve of sober 
courage and devout humility to help it bear its 
honours greatly. For has it not been said — " Let 
him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he 
fall!" 

One may look upon the innate spirit of Revival- 
Ism, exemplified in the hysteric wave of preaching, 



382 FREE OPINIONS 

praying and psalm-singing that has recently spread 
over Wales and other districts, as so much instinc- 
tive and natural popular rebellion against the 
insidious flood of atheism which has for the past 
ten years been striving to poison all the channels 
of man's better health and saner condition, — 
rebellion too against the apathetic coldness and 
shameless indifference of the ordained clergy to the 
clamorous needs of those neglected *' flocks " 
which they are elected to serve. *' Enough,'' say 
the People, " of shams and shows ! — enough of 
ministers who only minister to themselves and 
their own convenience! — enough of the preaching 
of the Gospel by men who do not and will not 
fulfil a single one of its commands in their own 
lives and actions ! Let us have something forcible 
and earnest, — let us be permitted to feel^ even 
though we shout and sing ourselves hoarse with 
the emotion which has been seething in us for 
years, — an emotion which we cannot explain to 
ourselves, but which craves, with a passion beyond 
all speech, for some touch of Heaven, some closer 
comprehension of that * After-Death,' which God 
keeps back from us like a prize or a punishment 
for His obedient or rebellious children ! Anything 
is better than the cold dead inertia of the Churches, 
sunk as they are in a blind lethargy from which 
they only bestir themselves dully when a chance 
is offered to them of engaging in some petty per- 
sonal quarrel. We are weary of priestly humbug, 
selfishness and inefficiency — we will gather our- 



THE SOUL OF THE NATION 383 

selves together and re-assert our faith in the world 
to come, a» true disciples of the Lordl" And 
whether such Revivalists elect to march under the 
banner of Cocoa Cadbury, (an excellent adver- 
tisement for Cadbury,) or any other emblazoned 
device of a successful trading concern, is not a 
matter of much moment. Starving folk will march 
anywhere, — under anything or anybody, — if they 
are promised nourishment at the end of the jour- 
ney. And the Soul of the Nation is, at this present 
period of time, starving to the point of inanition 
in all forms of spiritual food. The Good Shep- 
herd gave His life for the sheep, but the under- 
lings who care not for the flock have let the wolves 
into the fold. 

A thing which would appear to be frequently 
forgotten by those who hold Governmental author- 
ity, is, that the most vital, most powerful and most 
active principle of a Nation is this spark of the 
Divine which for want of any clearer mode of 
description we call the Soul. The Soul of a single 
individual man or woman is the mere copy in 
miniature of the Soul of a race, or the Soul of a 
world. An involuntary, half-conscious, but never- 
theless resistless impetus towards ultimate Good 
is the Soul's original quality and inborn Ideal. 
For, if the human weakness of the fleshly creature 
impel it towards temporary phases of evil, sooner 
or later the Soul will set to work to pull it out of 
the stifling quagmire. Material Nature is, as we 
all know, a remedial agent, and wherever mischief 



384 FREE OPINIONS 

is wrought she seeks to amend it Spiritual Nature 
is a still stronger healer. For every injury self- 
inflicted or wrought by others on the immortal 
Soul she has a saving balm, — and for every inch 
of progress which the Soul essays to make along 
the lines leading to good, she helps it forward a 
mile. Individuals find this out very soon in their 
own personal experience, — Nations discover it 
more slowly, — first, because they have a longer 
time to live and learn than the individual unit, — 
and secondly because, moving in great masses, their 
periods of transit from one epoch of civilization 
to another must necessarily be more laborious and 
difficult. But in all epochs, in all eras, the Soul 
wins. The fiery leaven which is of God, works 
through the lump in various strange and complex 
forms till the whole is leavened. And those 
nations in which the Soul, or Spirit of the Ideal, is 
crushed and kept down by the iron hand of 
Materialism, are very soon seen to fall back in 
the rear of progress, — so far back indeed. that we 
are fain to speak of them as " decaying nations," 
though of a truth no decay is possible to them, but 
only temporary retrogression, which will in due 
course revert to progress again when the Soul is 
once more allowed to have its way. But Govern- 
ments whose common law of procedure is to put 
this Soul or '' spirit of the Ideal," in the back- 
ground as a kind of myth or chimera, and who seek 
to settle everything pertaining to the interests of 
the people by what they term " practical " methods, 



THE SOUL OF THE NATION 385 

(which often prove wholly wwpractlcal,) are natur- 
ally prone to forget that whatever they do, what- 
ever they say, the busy Soul of the Nation Is alto- 
gether outside and above them, lighting for Itself, 
often desperately and piteously, and struggling to 
make use of Its wings, and rise higher and ever 
higher despite Its hobbles of iron and feet of clay. 
Religion Is supposed to give it this, its demanded 
freedom of noble flight, and the Christian religion, 
above all religions in the world, with its consoling 
teaching that out of sorrow cometh joy, and out 
of Death is born Life, should make for the happi- 
ness and peace of every living creature. But when 
the very ministers of that glorious Faith cast doubt 
upon It, and live their own lives In direct opposi- 
tion to it, — ^when undevout and therefore limited 
scientists dissect a midge of truth In order to 
launch a leviathan of fallacious theory, — when 
there Is no one pure and simple Church of Christ 
where all may meet in honest worship of His per- 
fect Creed, but only a million Sects which blas- 
pheme His Divine memory by their outrageous 
and petty quarrels one with the other, — it Is no 
matter for surprise that a strong revulsion of feel- 
ing should set in, or that the Soul of the Nation, 
conceiving itself grievously wronged and neglected, 
should try to find some fresh path of Its own 
heavenward, — some way out of mere Sham — 
In the belief that If it obeys its own instinctive de- 
sire towards the Highest Ideal, God will not suffer 
it to go far astray. For the quarrels of the 



386 FREE OPINIONS 

Churches are the second crucifixion of Christ. The 
apathy of the priesthood is the deliberate casting 
away to sin of the people. Where there is no 
unity, there is no force; and the divine founder 
of Christianity Himself has told us that a house 
divided against itself shall not stand. 

Yet when one comes to think of it, it is the 
strangest thing in the world that Christians should 
quarrel, seeing how plain and clear are the instruc- 
tions left to them for their guidance by the Master 
whom they profess to serve. The New Testament 
is easy reading. Its commands are brief and con- 
cise enough. There would seem to be no room for 
discussion or difference. Why should there be fol- 
lowers of Luther, Wesley, or any other limited 
human preacher or teacher, when all that is neces- 
sary is that we should be followers of Christ? 
The Soul of the Nation asks no more than this 
Gospel of Love, lovingly imparted, — it seeks but 
for the one firm faith in the eternal things which 
are its birthright, — a faith held purely, and wholly 
undoubted by those whose high mission is to teach 
it to each generation in turn, — it craves no more 
than that touch of heavenly sympathy which makes 
the whole world kin — that holy link which binds 
all mankind together in one strong knot of indis- 
soluble spiritual belief in the love and justice; the 
Unseen Force behind Creation, which will surely, 
out of the verities of that same love and justice, 
grant us a future life wherein will be made clear 
to us the reason and necessity of our strange suffer- 



THE SOUL OF THE NATION 387 

ings, martyrdoms, disappointments and losses in 
this present i^iere brief episode of living. The 
Soul of the Nation does not in Itself ask reward 
for Its good deeds, — nor does It weakly complain If 
punishment be Inflicted upon It for Its evil ones, — 
but it does demand justice, — It does ask why, for 
no conscious fault of its own, it should be born, 
only to die. Were this question never to be an- 
swered, then the mathematical exactitude with 
which everything, small or great, is balanced in 
the universe would be a merely elaborate scheme 
of unnecessary fallacy. Irrationally designed for 
the delusion of creatures who are not worth the 
trouble of deluding. No one who Is sane and 
morally healthy can contemplate such an idea as 
this for a moment, — It follows therefore that 
Man, living as he does between two Infinities, and 
endowed with a brain which can spiritually con- 
sider both without reeling, must be guided by some 
great and inimitably wise destiny towards ends 
he knows not, but which he may be reverently per- 
mitted to believe are for his better progress, 
greater happiness and higher understanding, and 
that he needs, out of all things in the world, a 
Faith, by which his soul shall be kept strong and 
pure, his mind steady, and his sympathies active. 
No mockery of Christianity, such as that of 
Servian priests who have publicly blessed regi- 
cides, — no cruel tyranny, such as that of the Greek 
Church which dares to appeal to a God of Love 
while the mighty masses of the Russian people 



388 FREE OPINIONS 

remain steeped in misery, and are, by very 
wretchedness, driven to crime, — no cold Conven- 
tionality of Form and Custom, such as is practised 
In fashionable London " West End " churches 
where society humbugs gather together to listen 
smirkingly to the civil cant of other society humbugs 
in surplices, who, passing for ministers of Christ, 
almost fear to preach the Gospel as it was written, 
lest its plain blunt truths should offend some 
highly-placed personage, — none of this kind of 
" religion " at all Is of use, — but faith, — real 
faith — real aspiration — real uplifting to the Ideal 
of all things noble, all things great, wise, helpful 
and true. This, at the present crucial moment of 
time. Is what the Soul of the Nation demands, — 
and not only the Soul of our own beloved and 
glorious Nation, but the Souls of all nations what- 
soever on the globe. They stand up, — each in 
place, each on its own spiritual plane, — stern, 
strong and beautiful; — like the fabled statue of 
Memnon they face the sunrise, and at the first 
touch of the first ray of glory they speak. Their 
voices are as thunder among the spheres, — they 
demand what they deserve, — ^justice, hope, com- 
fort, uplifting! To the mystic High Altar of the 
Infinite and Eternal they lift their praying hands, 
and to the priests of all religions they appeal. 
" Give us the Way, the Truth and the Life ! Cease 
your own wranglings and petty disputations, — 
have done with mere human dogma concerning 
the matters of life and death, — let us see the man, 



THE SOUL OF THE NATION 389 

Christ, — He who suffered our sorrows, and knew 
our need, — the Brother, the Friend, the Helper, 
for whom, in braver days than these, men gladly 
gave their lives to sword and fire and the jaws 
of wild beasts, — is there no manhood left now of 
such undaunted mettle ?— is there not one who will 
think of us, the Nations, who hunger for the 
glorious vitality of Faith, which, like the blood in 
our veins, keeps us warm and young and vigorous? 
Or must we perish in the devil-clutch of Material- 
ism, and go down to the depths, thrust there by 
the very men who have been elected to hold us 
close to God? We demand our rights in the 
Divine and Eternal Love ! — and these rights, born 
in us from the beginning, we will have, even if 
all present-existing human forms and fabrics of 
creed go down in our struggle for the one pure 
faith under whose holy influence we shall become 
stronger and wiser, and better able to understand 
our work and place in creation! The gates of 
Life shall not be shut upon us; — we will not 
accept the materialist's latter-day testimony that 
death shall be the end of all. For if there be an 
Eternal Good we are part of its being and share 
in Its Eternal attributes. And we say, — we Souls 
of the Nations, — to all our preachers and teachers 
and representatives of the Divine on earth — Lift 
us up ! Do not cast us down ! Be yourselves the 
models of what you would have us become I — so 
shall we be willing and ready to learn from you, — 
so shall we honour, love and patiently follow you. 



390 FREE OPINIONS 

But if you, as ministers of religion, show your- 
selves worse hypocrites than the very sinners 
whom the law condemns, then beware of us and 
our just vengeance! For you take from us our 
very life-blood, when you cheat us of the hope of 
Heaven!" 

This is true. A Nation robbed of its faith, is 
like a human body robbed of its heart — it has 
neither pulse nor motion, — it is the mere corpse of 
itself lying prone in the dust of perishable waste 
things. And the fact that grave retribution will 
follow the steps of those who assist in bring- 
ing it to this doom cannot be doubted. Such 
retribution has always been visited heavily on 
over-prosperous peoples, who, misled by special 
pleaders in the cause of Materialism have set God 
aside out of their countings as a non-proven quan- 
tity. The " non-proven " has then proved itself 
with crushing swiftness and authority in the fall of 
great powers, the shaking of great thrones, and the 
ruin and degradation of great names, — while very 
often a calamitous climax of misery and disaster 
has befallen an entire civilization and brought it 
to utter decay. Such occurrences are traceable 
through all history, and always appear to result 
from the same cause, — the crushing out of the 
vital principle, the spiritual starving of the Soul of 
a Nation. Heaven has not denied or diminished 
Its bounteous nourishment and blessing, — for, In 
our own day, the wonders of Science have opened 
out to our view such infinite reaches of the Ideal 



THE SOUL OF THE NATION 391 

as should double and treble our perception of the 
glories yet to be unfolded to us when we have 
" shuffled off this mortal coil " — while at the 
same time, nothing in all our changing phases of 
progress has yet occurred to alter the simple and 
noble teaching of Christ, or to make such instruc- 
tion otherwise than sane, pure and helpful for 
every man, woman and child ever born. Indeed, 
it would seem with the marvellous new penetra- 
tion we have gained Into the secrets of the earth, 
air and light, that the Infinite Creator is approach- 
ing His creature even more nearly, with fresh 
pledges of help and promise such as His Mes- 
senger brought In the words: *' Fear not, little 
flock, — it Is your Father's good pleasure to give 
you the Kingdom." And to the Soul of the 
Nation that " Kingdom " Is everything. In that 
kingdom It hopes to find all it has loved and lost, 
all it has striven for and failed to win, all that 
It has prayed for, wept for, worked for. Yet 
to-day between that aspiring Soul and Its Immor- 
tal Inheritance stand two deadly enemies, — a con- 
tentious Churchdom and a capitalized Press, — 
the one hypocrite, the other materialist. And the 
satirical demand "Do we Believe?" Is but an 
echo of Pilate's question "What Is truth?" — 
a question immediately followed by Truth's cruci- 
fixion. Nevertheless the Soul of the Nation — 
our nation, our empire — is becoming aware of its 
enemies. It Is Instinctively conscious of threaten- 
ing evil, and is on the alert to save Itself if others 



392 FREE OPINIONS 

will not save it. But its way out of the labyrinth 
of difficulty will probably be neither through 
Church nor Press, — ^nor will it be aided by 
" revival " meetings or Salvationist assemblies. 
Its path will be cloven straight, — not crookedly; 
for the British Nation, above all other nations In 
the world, does most easily sicken of priestly 
Sham and subsidized Journalism. And the sane, 
strong Soul of It — that Soul which in Its native 
Intrinsic virtue. Is devoutly God-fearing, pure and 
true, will find means to shake off its pressing foes 
and stand free. For priestcraft and dogma are 
like prison chains fastened upon the aspiring spirit 
of humanity, and they have nothing In common 
with the simple teaching of Christ, which Is the 
only Christianity. 



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